


Who's Laughing Now?

by makecents



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Joker (2019)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Age Difference, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Domestic Violence, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Harleen Quinzel Backstory, Me trying to set something in the 80s but probably failing, Past Abuse, Set during the events of the Joker movie, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 53,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25111606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makecents/pseuds/makecents
Summary: Harley is a waitress in 1980s Gotham, struggling to get by in an expensive city on minimum wage. After moving in a run down apartment building, she meets Arthur Fleck, a strange yet intriguing man who slowly worms his way into her life. Then, when a murderous clown solves one of the biggest problems, she can't help but be drawn to the mysterious figure and begins to idolize him. Little does she know, her hero is closer than she thinks.Harley/Joker origin story written for Joaquin Phoenix's joker.
Relationships: Arthur Fleck/Harleen Quinzel, Arthur Fleck/Original Female Character(s), Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel, Joker (DCU)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 113
Kudos: 152





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is a lil Jarley fic I've had in my head for a while now, wanted to get it down in words. This will be both Harley/Joker and Harley/Arthur Fleck. Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Synopsis: Harley is a waitress in 1980s Gotham, struggling to get by in an expensive city on minimum wage. After moving in a run down apartment building, she meets Arthur Fleck, a strange yet intriguing man who slowly worms his way into her life. Then, when a murderous clown solves one of the biggest problems, she can't help but be drawn to the mysterious figure and begins to idolize him. Little does she know, her hero is closer than she thinks.
> 
> Trigger warnings: Abuse, assault, unhealthy relationships, violence, dubious consent, attempted rape, explicit sexual content, explicit language, age gap.
> 
> Other warnings/notes:  
> \- I'm going to attempt to have this properly set in the 80s, but I'm not great at being accurate with these kind of things so apologies if I don't quite get it right.  
> \- Joker is 100% Arthur Fleck, or my interpretation of him at least. No Heath/Leto etc.  
> \- Joker/Harley's relationship won't be abusive like it is in the comics but it won't really be healthy either, I don't think it can be with these kind of characters.  
> \- Will be told from the POV of Harley and occasionally Arthur. Both are unreliable narrators, so keep that in mind ;)  
> \- I guess this is AU, since Harley isn't a psychiatrist here... but the Joker movie itself is pretty AU anyway so whatever :P

It was bordering on 9pm. I knew I should pick up the pace a little to avoid being out with all my stuff so late at night. I had my pepper spray with me, but even if I escaped getting molested someone could still make off with my stuff. Most of my worldly belongings were in the suitcase I was carrying, and one of the wheels was broken which was _seriously_ slowing me down.

FINALLY I turned onto the street where the apartment building was supposed to be. There was garbage all over the sidewalk, just like everywhere else. No surprises there - I wouldn't expect any less from the shit city that is Gotham. I stopped halfway down the road, looking up at narrow entrance to a run-down high rise.

_Sunshine Estate Apartments? Right._

I rolled my eyes at the misnomer. Luckily my expectations hadn't been high - this was pretty much the only thing I was able to afford on a waitress's salary, so all I could hope for was that it was livable. All the same, I wished I didn't have to kick the crumbling door to get it open or hold my nose for the pungent pee smell near the stairwell.

I prayed the elevator worked; I'd already dragged my suitcase halfway across Gotham City so I wasn't really down to add three flights of stairs to that. To my relief the doors clunked open with a halfhearted _ding_ , and I quickly jumped over the threshold to avoid getting cut in half by the doors. (It can happen!!)

"3B..." I murmured. Third floor, that was where I hopped off - after a terrifying moment where the elevator seemed like it was going to drop three stories back to the ground. My door was near the end of the corridor and I stopped in front of it warily.

"Well... here goes." After struggling somewhat with the lock, I stepped inside.

Oh - I should probably give ya some kind of introduction huh? Well, my name's Harleen Quinzel, but my friends call me Harley.

I've been in foster care all my life; shunted from home to home in Gotham, having different "brothers" and "sisters" every year. Basically, my parents didn't like the look of me, so they dumped me at a doorstep somewhere so the government could take care of me instead. Lucky me. I didn't get adopted like the other kids, because I was "too much trouble" and "too weird", my social worker said. She kept insisting I needed to try and be more normal, more appropriate for a girl my age, blah blah, whatever that means. I don't care what she says, I don't need anyone who can't handle me the way I am. Besides, I can take care of myself just fine.

When I turned 18, I got kicked out of foster care too. They made me pack everything I owned into a suitcase and told me to get the fuck out. That's cool though - I was _so_ ready to leave that place.

I moved in with one of my "sisters" for a while, but it was sort of a nightmare. Her boyfriend also lived with us, and most of the time they just screamed at each other; either having a violent argument or fucking for hours in the middle of the night. Apparently when you fight _that_ much, you also have a LOT of make-up sex. I lost count of how many times I had to duck a plate or vase being chucked across the room, but also the number of times I'd be wrapping my head in a pillow trying to get to sleep through constant banging and moaning at 3AM. Eventually, I managed to scrape together some savings from working a while so I could put the deposit down on this place. It was a shithole, sure, but it was _my_ shithole.

Don't feel sorry for me though. I don't want or need pity, I'm not unhappy. I just need some time to figure shit out and get my life straight.

So anyway, there I was, seeing my new apartment for the first time. It was... bare. The paint was cracking, the pipes were rusty. It seemed clean otherwise though; I'd been terrified of finding rotten food or trash or god knows what else, but it seemed like the landlord had given it a proper scrubbing. Thank god. I could fix the rest. Some paint, a bit of furniture and it would be just like home right?

I didn't actually have any of my furniture with me - not that I had much - Ivy (my best friend) was going to borrow her boyfriend's car to help me grab my bed and dresser and other bits. Until then I just had small things - clothes, toiletries, you get the idea. Oh, and a sleeping bag. I unrolled it with some flourish, accidentally kicking up a cloud of dust into the air. Ok, maybe the apartment wasn't _as_ clean as I'd first thought.

* * *

"Ugh..."

Waking up the next morning was _not_ fun. Honestly I'd never slept well with my foster-sister and her boyfriend fucking like rabbits - I _lived_ on coffee - but the floor was _hard_ and my sleeping bag was flimsy. I'd probably managed about 4 hours of sleep in total with all the tossing and turning and to make matters worse I didn't have my coffee pot or anything I needed to make my caffeine fix. I groaned, ran a hand through my hair and shuffled to the bathroom. God, I hoped the water was hot.

"Fuck, how late am I?" I scrambled into the kitchen where Ivy stood, leaning against the counter, idly sucking on a cigarette.

"You're good, Farrow's still counting his money." She pulled the stick out of her mouth and grinned, stubbing it out on an empty plate. "You look frazzled."

"Is that code for 'you look like shit'?" I stuck my tongue out. "You're right though, I barely slept last night. I had to put my makeup on in the subway so half my face is probably lopsided." Luckily only one or two customers had trickled in and were looking at menus - I had time to catch my breath and check that I didn't look like a _complete_ mess.

"You're still good to help me cart my stuff to my new place right?" I asked Ivy. "Did Pete agree to let you borrow his car? I don't have much, it should fit in one trip."

"He did, but god did he cause a fuss. What is it with boys and their cars? You’d think I was asking to borrow his dick for the day."

"Well I'd ask to borrow that instead but I'm pretty sure it's too small to fit any of my stuff." I smirked.

"Bitch, shut up." Ivy threw her notepad at me, snickering. "He's hung like a horse."

"Ew. Believe that when I hopefully never see it."

It felt good to giggle over something dumb with Ivy; renting an apartment and living alone was enough adulting for me for a while.

So about Ivy - I met her in middle school and we've been best friends since - she's the one who hooked me up with the job at Gotham Griddle. She _always_ has my back and I've got hers. We've been through a lot together, and even if we fight sometimes we always come out stronger. She made working just a little bit easier - even if our boss sucked, customers were assholes and we got paid pennies, everything is a little better when you're working with your bestie.

As usual, after a couple of hours doing the same thing over and over, my feet ached and the customers had started to blur together.

"So that's one Griddle Special and one Eggs Benedict... two cokes and a coffee. Anything else I can getcha?"

"No."

"Okay! Well you just holler if you need anything, 'kay?"

I scooped up some dirty plates on my way back to the kitchen, dumping them in the sink and groaning at the thought of doing the cleanup later.

"How can a milkshake be too _cold_?" Ivy stormed in after me, balancing three empty sundae bowls and a very creamy strawberry milkshake. "This is the second time this lady is making me take it back and “warm it up”! She knows they’re made with ice cream right? I’m just going to nuke it but she’ll probably complain it’s too hot." She shoved the drink in the microwave, turning to me as the timer descended.

"Oh god I’ve had her before, she tips really badly too." I commiserated. "Want me to trip and “accidentally” spill something all over her?"

Ivy laughed. "No it’s fine… you do that too often, Farrow is going to catch on soon. I’ll just get one of the chefs to pee in her soup."

"Gross." I grinned.

"Morning girls!" The booming voice of our overweight, sweaty boss bounced across the kitchen as he strolled in, waving his thick, ring-adorned hands with enthusiasm.

"Morning Sir..." We murmured in unison.

"You’re both looking ravishing this morning if I might say so."

Oh - that was another thing I forgot to mention - our boss was a creep. He loved to make inappropriate comments and we often caught him staring down our shirt or at our ass when we walked away. Don't even get me started on the uniform he made us wear - the skirt was barely longer than my small cloth apron, it may as well have been a belt. We put up with it though, because he paid a teeeny bit better than most of the restaurants in the area. "Perv-tax" we called it. It also didn't hurt that we could get out of trouble somewhat by undoing our shirt buttons a little more.

Ivy pretended to swoon, fanning herself. "Oh stop it sir, you're makin' me blush."

A smarmy smile stretched across Farrow's face and I caught Ivy's eye, miming vomiting behind him.

Farrow smacked his lips, looking around and observing his empire. "Well, perhaps the blushing waitress should stop gossiping and get back to work! Get out there and make me some money!"

"Yes sir..." We chorused unenthusiastically.

I loaded up my arms with plates of food. You developed a certain deftness, being a waitress, and despite being laden with dinnerware I was able to sneak a few fries from one of the meals.

"Don't let Farrow catch you at that..." Ivy muttered sidelong at me. "You know he'll make you pay for the whole plate."

"I know, I'm just so fucking huuungry." I whined. "All I've eaten today is a handful of saltine crackers."

"Hmm, I wonder why you’re out of money again. Are those new earrings perhaps?" She smirked at me. I never got anything past Ivy.

"Maybe... ugh, but they were so pretty I couldn’t help it! Stop judging me! Also I just dumped all my savings on the deposit for this shit apartment."

"Undo your shirt a little more and maybe you’ll recover with the tits- i mean tips."

I pushed her playfully just before we split off to opposite sides of the restaurant and I switched my demeanor back to customer mode.

"Here are your burger and fries m'aam! Aaand a coke. Sir, here's your coffee. Anything else ya need? I'll be back to check on you in a bit, kay?"

* * *

"Thanks for the help sweetie, I’ll see ya tomorrow morning!" I waved at Ivy through the car window.

"You're welcome babe! Sorry I can’t stay, Pete will kill me if I’m even a minute late back." She called.

"Tell Pete he’s a tenth less of a dipshit than I thought he was!"

"Oh I will..." Ivy rolled her eyes. She knew far too well the low opinion I had of her boyfriend and was used to my jabs. Between us we'd managed to carry the big things up to my apartment; we'd had to use the stairs because the elevator was so tiny; as a result I was sweating and desperate for a shower. I scooped the remaining box onto my shoulder and made the final trip up. With a few furnishings, my apartment definitely did look better. I didn't have much; I still needed to get my hands on some essentials like a kitchen table, but at least I had a bed, and a somewhat comfy couch. I didn't have a TV. Probably wouldn't be able to afford one any time soon either.

I actually had to make the trip up and down the stairs one last time to check the mail, and as I was walking back, I saw someone else on my floor for the first time since I'd moved in. Admittedly I'd only been there two days but it was kind of eerie how empty it had been. I'd started doubting whether people actually lived in any of the rooms; it was a total ghost town. Just ahead of me though, was a tall, wiry-looking man with brown, slightly curly hair that reached just past his ears. His walk had a sort of defeated slouch to it and I identified with the sentiment.

I was wondering whether I should introduce myself, when a letter fell out of his hand. He'd been holding a bundle of them, so didn't seem to notice one slipping out.

"Oh, excuse me!"

The man did not turn, and I reached where he'd dropped it.

"Excuse me!" I picked up the letter, glancing at it as I hurried after him. He wasn't walking particularly fast, but his legs were long which meant his strides covered a much further distance than mine.

"Excuse me! Mr... uh..." I looked down at it again. "Fleck?" I pulled on the sleeve of his jacket as I caught up to him, attempting once again to get his attention. "Mr Fleck? You dropped this." I handed him the letter.

He was a good foot taller than me, and his hair hung around his face as he stared down at me. He looked around forty, and his drab, grandpa-style clothes didn't help him look any younger; he was wearing gray slacks and a mustard yellow jacket that swamped his thin frame.

He stared at me with apparent bewilderment. I noticed the door he was standing next to.

"Oh, you're in 3C?" I smiled. "Looks like we're neighbors! I live in the next apartment down on the opposite side. I'm Harley." I gave him a quick wave and held out my hand, and it hovered awkwardly between us as he continued to look at me like I'd popped out of thin air.

"Well... anyway." I was starting to feel uncomfortable under his constant gaze. "Nice to meet you... um... I’m usually pretty quiet but let me know if I’m playing my music too loud or anything, ha." I paused, but received no response. "I... well... goodnight!"

It was only a couple of steps to my own door and I shuffled over, feeling incredibly awkward from the encounter. Did I have something on my face? Maybe he was mad that I touched his mail? My councilor always used to tell me that I had no concept of personal space, maybe that was it. Well screw that, I was just being friendly.

"Fucking door..." I muttered to myself as I struggled with the lock.

"Hey." I whirled around. Mr Fleck was still standing where I left him, still watching me. After a beat, he finally spoke

"I’m… my name is Arthur."

I relaxed. _Arthur_. He seemed harmless enough. I still wasn't sure what had made him so at loss for words but maybe I'd just caught him off guard? People didn't seem to hang around to chat to their neighbors much at Sunshine Estates.

I smiled. "Nice to meet you Arthur."

"Y-you said your name was...H-"

"Harley." I prompted.

His mouth stretched into a grin.

I yawned. "I'm going to head to bed, but hopefully I'll see you around, it gets lonely here!" I pushed my door open. "Goodnight Arthur!"

I heard his quiet response just before my door creaked closed.

"Goodnight Harley."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing from Arthur's POV sure is fun ;) I might do so a little more than I originally planned...

Arthur picked up the stack of letters from his mailbox, after dropping off _yet another_ mail to Thomas Wayne. He still didn't understand what his Mother was constantly sending to this man, and why she did so at all, let alone so often. The elevator was up at the fourth floor and he'd been in the building long enough to know it was a waste of time to wait for it to reach ground, so he trudged up the three flights of stairs back to his apartment as he rifled through the envelopes.

Bills, overdue bills, junk mail, more bills. Nothing interesting - no surprises there. Arthur was reaching into his pocket for a cigarette when he felt a tug on his arm. He whirled around probably a little too violently - he didn't ever interact with other people in this building so it was hard not to assume trouble. He'd been especially on edge after being jumped by a gang of kids just a few days prior.

At first, he saw no-one, then realized he was staring over the top of her head; his gaze shifted down a foot to a small, blonde girl, wearing a short black skirt and tight-fitting white shirt.

She looked so out of place in the rundown dirty hallway and Arthur was caught completely off guard. Anything Arthur knew about being smooth went out the window - not that he knew that much to begin with. Or ever had encounters with the opposite sex (aside from his mother).

The girl couldn't have been more than twenty-five - if he had to guess Arthur would've put her at twenty-two. In his whole time living in these dingy apartments he hadn't seen a female younger than thirty, aside from the odd kid here and there.

"Mr Fleck?" She handed him a letter. "You dropped this."

Her voice sounded like a beautiful song and hearing her speak his name sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. Where did she come from? Maybe she was the girlfriend or cousin of one of the residents here?

"Oh, you're in 3C?" A carefree smile split across her face and it was like the heavens opened briefly, shining holy light on his soul. "Looks like we're neighbors!" She continued. "I live in the apartment opposite you. I'm Harley."

Neighbors? There was no way...

Well, he knew Mr Allen had moved out of 3B a few weeks ago, but... she didn't belong here. He couldn't be that lucky. Things like this didn't happen to Arthur Fleck.

His gaze had unintentionally drifted to her cleavage, and he couldn't help staring. Her shirt was thin and it clung to her curves, dipping in at her waist and stretching again at her hips, which were pear shaped, something that wasn't immediately obvious due to her skinny frame. The fabric strained against the buttons in places, threatening to pop any second and her legs were slightly bowed but in a way that Arthur just found cute. She had dimples in her cheeks and a small button nose that wrinkled a little while she smiled and her eyes were a glittering teal blue, wide and questioning, sucking him in.

He imagined what it would be like to touch her. Run his hand down her back... grab her hips and pull them forward to press her pelvis against his... dip his head to her neck and take in her scent and slowly unclasp the buttons at her breast --

Shit. He realized suddenly she'd been standing there with her hand extended for goodness knows how long and he'd just been staring at her like an idiot.  
"Well... anyway." She withdrew her hand awkwardly. "Nice to meet you... um... I’m usually pretty quiet but let me know if I’m playing my music too loud or anything, ha."

Her words were rushed and she obviously wanted to get out of there - and of course she did, he'd just been gawping at her the whole time.

"I... well... goodnight!"

He opened his mouth to speak as she turned away, but felt the unmistakable tickle of laughter spawning in his throat and hastened to muffle it with the back of his hand.

Shit. He needed to say something to her before she left, what if she avoided him from now on?

"H-h-- ha! Ha ha hmmf...!" Arthur shoved his fist back into his mouth, cursing internally in frustration. Luckily it didn't seem like she'd heard. He struggled desperately to get a grip on himself as she turned the key to her door.

"H-- ha... Hey!" He managed to blurt out a coherent word before she went inside and she paused. He removed his hand from his mouth and pressed his lips together as she turned, trying to look inconspicuous.

"I'm... my name is Arthur." He breathed out a relieved sigh, thankful that he'd got through the outburst.

"Arthur." She repeated. She smiled again and Arthur could've sworn he felt his heart skip a beat.

"Nice to meet you Arthur."

"Y-you... said your name was H-"

"Harley."

"Harley..." The name sounded just right as it rolled off his tongue and his face broke out into a grin.

Just then she yawned, and she looked absolutely exhausted to the core.

"I'm going to head to bed, but hopefully I'll see you around, it gets lonely here! Goodnight Arthur!"

Arthur watched her go inside, and then, for a while he watched her door after she'd disappeared.

_Harley..._

After what could've been several minutes, or several hours, he staggered lightheadedly back to his apartment.

* * *

Arthur didn't get a wink of sleep - though that wasn't unusual - his mind had been _racing_ with images of Harley. Did she really exist? Or was she just in his imagination? He'd been periodically peeking out of the front door since five-am in case he emerged. He had no idea what time she left her house, if at all. As seven rolled around he found himself with his eye glued to the edge of the door, keeping it open just a crack. If only he'd been able to watch through the peephole but unfortunately her door was just out of view.

It was seven thirty-seven when she emerged, and Arthur stood up in shock, having convinced himself that she wasn't actually real. Before he knew what he was doing, he had stepped into the hallway, intending to greet her.

"Hi Har-"

His words were cut short when she ran straight into him.

"O-oh!!" She squeaked as they collided, and as her balance faltered Arthur instinctively reached out to steady her. And Harley apparently needed the help for she gripped onto his forearms and for a second Arthur was sure his heart had stopped. He could feel the pressure of her long nails through his sweater and his skin was touching hers where their wrists met. Oh, how he longed to touch even more of her.

She looked up at him with an expression full of concern and exhaustion. "I'm so sorry! I--" A spark of recognition flashed in her eyes. "Oh- Mr. Fleck-- Arthur right? Nice to see you again. Though I'm sorry I had to literally run into you."

Arthur shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "It's fine. Are- are you okay?"

"Yes, but are you? I basically ran over you! I'm late for work and I wasn't looking where I was going, I swear this won't be a daily occurrence."

"Don't worry about it." Arthur searched his mind for something interesting to say, something that would make her think he was cool--

"Oh shoot." Harley was looking at her watch. "Arthur I would love to stay but I have to run or I'm going to be late-- have a great day!"

"Harley wait- is this--" She stopped as Arthur picked up a small rectangle of black fabric off the ground. "I-is this yours?"

"Oh shit! My apron, yes!" He handed it to her, making sure his hand brushed against hers as much as possible. "God, my boss would've had a fit if I forgot this. Thank you so much Arthur!" She looked at her watch again. "Ok I do really have to go but seriously, thank you. I owe you a coffee okay?"

And with a whirl of blonde hair, she was gone.

Arthur pulled the hood of his yellow jacket over his head.

"Mom I'm leaving." He called, not looking back as he closed the door behind her.

He was so excited to see where his Harley worked.

* * *

It wasn't difficult for Arthur to catch up with Harley even though she'd had a head start; he saw her just ahead as he stuck his head out of the entrance to Sunshine Estates. He tucked his hands in his pockets and began to slowly follow, thinking about their encounter.

_"I owe you a coffee okay?"_

A coffee... was she asking him out on a date?

Arthur grinned to himself. He was starting to suspect she ran into him deliberately as an excuse to talk to him. Was she developing a crush on him already?

Harley's journey to work took them to the nearest subway station, and several stops on the green line right to Gotham City center. Arthur rode in the car adjacent to Harley's, but made sure he could see her through the door where the cars connected. She seemed to be attempting to put on makeup, though she had to pause every couple of seconds as the train wobble. It made Arthur strangely angry that she was doing so - Harley's natural face was beautiful, why did she feel the need to wear makeup? Who had made her feel like she wasn't pretty enough without it?

Once off the subway, there was another short walk into the city's financial district. On a side street, on the corner next to a dry cleaner, was a diner. Arthur looked up at the big black letters that emblazoned the front of the building that Harley disappeared into.

_GOTHAM GRIDDLE_

So she was a waitress. That explained the apron. A waitress... Arthur had never dated a waitress before. What would that be like? 

_"May I take your order Mr. Fleck?" Harley was slinking up to him in her tight shirt and short skirt._

_"I-I... what would you recommend?" He stuttered._

_"Well, I recommend the special." She was so close to him. He could feel the air move as she spoke._

_"W-what's the special?"_

_Now she was running her hand up his thigh, bringing her lips right to his ear and he could see right down her shirt to her navel, beyond her cleavage._

_She squeezed his leg, whispering. "A big heapa-helping of Harley."_

Arthur's cheeks heated up and he shook his head in an attempt to clear the image.

"Ha.... ha... Ha! Ha Ha Ha Ha!!" He wheezed as the laughter pushed its way up his chest, doubling over, and a couple nearby on the sidewalk gave him a weird look before crossing to the other side of the street. Arthur stuffed his forearm in his mouth.

Once the laughter had subsided, Arthur peered once again through the diner window. Harley wasn't in the main area anymore and he guessed she'd gone into a door at the back - there weren't many other places to go. He snuck around the side of the building, hoping there would be a window of some sort - and to his absolute delight there was - a very small one. It was slightly awkwardly placed but that just made it easier for him to look through without being seen. He could see into the serving area from the corner, his view only partially obstructed by the microwave. Harley was there with another girl, seemingly around her age, who had violently ginger curly hair. Arthur's eyes flicked back to Harley.

"-and I have no idea how I managed to be on time this morning, I overslept again." Harley was smoothing her hair in the reflection of one of the glass cabinets. "I jumped on the subway right as the door was closing, I thought I was going to get stuck halfway in halfway out."

Arthur could just about hear what she was saying; their voices were muffled like he was holding his hands over his ears but by watching their lips move he got the gist of what they were saying.

"Did you sleep better with a bed?" Her friend asked as she walked to some wooden racks where their coats and bags hung.

"Sorta - I guess I'm just getting used to the new environment." Harley stretched, and her skirt rode up her legs a little further, exposing the top of her pantyhose. Arthur wrung his hands. "Thank you sooo much for the help though sweetie, don't know what I would do withoutcha."

"You'd be a total mess."

Arthur wished he was the one talking to Harley, instead of this annoying ginger girl who kept getting in the way of his view of her.

"You're right, I would." Harley grinned. "I really should get my shit together though. I would've left my apron back at home if it hadn't been for the guy who lives opposite me."

"Oh? You met one of your neighbors?"

Just then, a tall but _very wide_ man with dark hair and an obvious toupee entered the room and Arthur nearly kicked the wall in disappointment. Harley had just been about to talk about him!

The man had a smarmy look about him and was eyeing Harley in a way Arthur didn't like. His jowls shook when he spoke.

"Morning ladies. What a wonderful Tuesday this is."

Arthur wondered if they noticed how he was staring so obviously at their cleavage. Who did this man think he was, staring at _his_ Harley?

"Do I need to tell you every morning to stop gossiping in the kitchen?"

"Sorry sir..." They both droned, and Arthur was pleased to hear Harley didn't seem to like this man either.

"Well off you go then! Chop chop!"

The large man didn't notice Harley roll her eyes. Harley didn't seem to notice the large man checking out her ass as she left the kitchen. Arthur's hands curled into fists.

Arthur was about to follow them back around to the front before he realised the time. His first gig was in about an hour - he needed to get down to HA-HAs to get ready. He had a couple of jobs across Gotham today, but with any luck he'd be done by early evening. After all, he had much more important things to do. he needed to get ready for his first date with Harley.


	3. Chapter 3

Somehow, I managed not to be late for once. Instead of tearing inside and starting work immediately I could stroll in and grab a cup of coffee. Technically, we weren't allowed to get our own coffee from the machines without paying for it, but Farrow had tried to scold me once before and I think the crankiness of pre-coffee-Harley screaming at him had put him off mentioning it again. He still felt the need to eye me resentfully though, so I made sure to take long, loud slurps whenever he was around.

(See, that's another reason we put up with Farrow's pervy eyes - I couldn't imagine many people putting up with my insolence.)

"Hey sweetie." I'd managed to arrive earlier than Ivy this morning - a rare event - so I was already one coffee deep when she arrived. She seemed a little disheveled, which was also unusual. "You alright Ives? Why is your cheek all red? You fall over in your stripper heels last night?" I flashed her a cheeky grin.

"Is it?" Ivy rushed over to the microwave (the dark surface gave the best mirror-like effect). "Oh geez." She pulled at her cheek, examining it, at the same time pulling a compact out of her bag. She began to dab furiously at her face. "Fuck!"

Ivy's exclamation was so loud I nearly spat out my drink. "What?!"

"Ugh... nothing I just-- one of my nails came off yesterday and it fucking hurts."

"Your fake nails?"

"No my actual nail-"

"Your actual nail?!" I cringed. "Came... came off?!"

"Yeah and I keep forgetting and then brushing it against things and it hurts like crazy."

"God what did you do last night? Did you start an all girl fight club? 'Cus if so you need to let me in on that."

"Ha-ha." Ivy replied sarcastically. "Listen, I need a night out."

"You know I'll never say no to drinks and dancing. When? Where?"

"Anywhere. As soon as possible."

"Okay well let's go to the fancy cocktail place downtown. I'm in the mood for some daiquiris and there are always plenty of chumps with loose wallets. Tomorrow?"

"Please." And Ivy sighed so hard I looked up at her in concern. Ivy and I knew each other well - and what would seem like just a meaningless sigh to others, was an indication of something much more significant to me.

"You okay Ives?"

"Yeah it's nothing. Look, we better get serving."

I grabbed her arm before she could leave the kitchen. "They can wait five more minutes. Are you really okay? Because you seem... troubled."

"It's really nothing. Just PMS I guess." She smiled, but it was forced and I could tell. "You need to stop worrying about me so much okay?"

"I'll never stop worrying about you." I smiled. "It's what i'm here for."

I dropped the topic. But I knew _something_ was up. And it was unusual for Ivy to keep things from me, so I couldn't help being that bit more suspicious. I wasn't going to drop it yet, but Ivy didn't need to know that.

"C'mon, we'd better start making with the coffees or we're going to have customers flipping tables."

"Right."

I sighed hard, not quite ready to put on my customer face. Then again, was I ever? _The customer is always right._ Geez. Whoever invented that little bit needed to be shot. I walked up to my first table of the day.

"Hiya! Welcome to the Gotham Griddle! Can I get you a--" I did a double take. "Oh! Hi Arthur!"

It was indeed Mr Fleck, my neighbor. I smiled. It was always much nicer to serve people you knew (unless they were a massive dick), instead of total strangers; strangers didn't ever feel remorse treating you like garbage. It's not like I knew Arthur well at all, but I was pretty confident he wasn't going to send me back to the kitchen four times to get his eggs exactly the right amount of "over easy".

Arthur ran a hand through his hair. "Oh, hi Harley. I uh, I didn’t know you worked here."

"Yeah I do! Small world huh? How are you doing?"

"I- Good. This place is on my way to work."

"You don't say! You work downtown?"

"Yeah... on 19th."

"Oh... 19th..." I couldn't stop the smile falling off my face. "You um... you don't happen to work for Wayne Enterprises do you?"

We got a lot of customers from WE, being so close to the office, and I felt it was pretty fair to make a sweeping statement and say they were all dicks. Was there something in the water at that company or was it just the type of person they chose to hire? They were always entitled, pervy, mid-twenties douchebags who thought they had the right to demand priority service and feel up the waitresses. To top it all, they tipped terribly, despite the unfair amount of money they made.

"Wayne Enterprises? No I- I'm an entertainer. A comedian I mean."

I relaxed. "Oh, that's good to hear." I leaned in closer and lowered my voice. "Because between you and me we get a lot of Wayne Enterprises employees in here and they’re all _pricks_. And you seem like a nice guy Arthur."

Arthur stared at me for a second and I was worried that I'd offended him - I had a bad habit of probably saying more than I should a lot of the time - but then his face broke into a grin.

"Anyway," I continued. "So you're a comedian - that's so cool! Do you do stand up?"

Arthur ran a hand through his hair again and shrugged. "Yeah, sometimes. I'm just figuring out my schedule for the uh... upcoming shows."

"That's amazing! I hope I can see a show of yours some time!"

He stared up at me again and I was starting to wonder if he was just hard of hearing.

"Anyway, sorry - you must not have a lot of time if you're on the way to work. What can I get you?"

"I-- Just- just a coffee."

"Coming right up!"

As I made my way to the other tables I passed Ivy and grabbed a few fries off the plate she was carrying, earning a disapproving look.

"Aaaand here's your coffee! Anything else I can getcha? Something to eat?"

"No this is fine." Arthur wrapped his hands around the coffee, and I wondered if he was even intending to drink it or just use it for warmth.

"Well feel free to grab me if you need anything else alright? And remember, this coffee is on me."

"Ok. I-- Thanks, Harley."

"You betcha."

The rest of the day passed with pretty the same drudgery as usual. More of the same customers, same orders, same complaints. As usual, one customer began to blur into the next. My growling stomach also didn't let up and I had to frequently silence it with stolen food.

Arthur left after around three hours; he nursed the same coffee the entire time, and even though I frequently passed by to top it up he couldn't have drunk more than a cup and a half by the end. I am absolutely not complaining though; having a table filled up for hours by such an easy customer was always great. Less room for the usual pricks we seemed to attract.

When Arthur finally left and I was cleaning up the bill, I noticed he'd left an unnecessarily large tip.

Ten dollars? On a cup of coffee? I picked up the note, feeling a little guilty. It was excessive, for sure, but perhaps it was because I knew where Arthur lived, knew that he didn't have much more money than I did if he was living in Sunshine Estates, that it seemed so much more over the top. It kinda defeated the point of me paying for his coffee. Why had he felt the need to leave such an exorbitant tip? Was it a mistake? I thought about returning it to him but decided against it; he might find it offensive if it had been intentional. Luckily, I found a compromise when I left work that night.

There was a bakery on my way home, and it always had the prettiest, most delicious looking cupcakes in the window. It was downright cruel that I had to walk past it every day and not get anything. My hand tightened on my purse and I thought about the ten dollar bill inside it. I should spend that money on groceries for the week, not baked goods. That would be the responsible thing to do.

Sooo... you've probably established by now that I'm not good at doing the responsible thing. Terrible, in fact. That's why ten minutes later I was walking out of the store, clutching a bag with three HUGE cupcakes. One for me, one for Ivy, and one for Arthur. This way, I got to spend the tip on something but didn't feel as guilty about it.

I stopped at his door on the way to my apartment, knocking gently.

"Who is it?! Happy is that you?" A voice shouted from inside. A woman's voice.

"Um... is Arthur in?" I called back, suddenly unsure if I had the right door.

"He's not in!"

"Okay... do you know when he'll be back?" It seemed weird to be talking through the door, I wondered why whoever it was didn't just come and talk to me face-to-face.

"I don't know!" The woman called.

"Oh okay... I'll come back later then. Thank you."

I felt a little puzzled. I realized I'd just made the massive assumption that Arthur was unmarried, lived alone, and didn't have a girlfriend. I wasn't sure why I made that assumption or why it even mattered - besides, he had to be in his forties, it made total sense that he would be married, even if he didn't have kids.

It wasn't until around 11PM that I heard someone in the hallway (the walls were so thin, you could hear everyone coming and going). I was lounging on my bed reading a magazine, pretty much ready to go to sleep, when I heard the faint sound of a door unlocking.

I jumped up and ran to the door, peeking my head out. Sure enough, Arthur was halfway through the door of his apartment.

"Arthur, hey!" I called from my doorway. "I have something for you-- give me a second!" I disappeared momentarily as I retrieved the cupcake from the fridge. Arthur watched as I emerged once again, bouncing up to him. "I knocked earlier but your...um... wife..? She said you weren't in."

Arthur frowned. "Wife?" He looked around in realization. "Oh-- no that-- that's my mother-- sorry, I- I look after her. She uh- she's sick."

"Oh! I'm sorry to hear that." _That_ made more sense - ever since I'd been trying to imagine that woman as Arthur's wife but couldn't quite manage it. So she was sick - I guess that's why she didn't come to the door? "Well she's lucky to have you caring for her."

Arthur shrugged but there was an unmistakable smile on his face. "Yeah I guess."

"Anyway, I just wanted to give you this!" I held up the cupcake to him. "Just to say thank you again. I'm not sure if you like sweet stuff as much as me but this bakery is one of the best I've been to."

He reached out and took the cupcake, slowly, staring it as if he'd never seen one before.

"I couldn't even wait to get home to eat mine, I devoured it on the subway."

Arthur was now looking at me again, and I couldn't tell if he liked the gift or not. I still hadn't got used to his tendency to stare so expressionlessly at me, saying nothing.

He looked at the cupcake again and then... he just started laughing.

It was a few small chuckles at first, but it grew quickly into bigger guffaws to the point where he was absolutely just doubled over in laughter.

My cheeks turned red.

Why was he-- No, of course he was laughing. I was bringing him, a grown man that I barely knew, a bright pink cupcake? As a thank you gift? What wasn't dumb about that? And he was still laughing at me, laughing so hard he was clutching his stomach in pain.

"I- I'm sorry I--" I didn't really know what to do so just scurried back to my apartment, still flushing with embarrassment. How else are you supposed to respond when somebody just laughs in your face like that? I felt like I should be angry, but I couldn't manage it; I was just upset. And humiliated. Why did I ever bother trying to be friendly?

My stomach grumbled.

Well at least I got to eat a second cupcake.

I'd nearly finished the entire thing when I heard footsteps; just then, a note was pushed under my door.

"Hm?"

I picked it up and realized it wasn't a note; it was a small, laminated card.

_Forgive my Laughter; I have a condition._

A... condition? My heart sank.

_It's a medical condition causing sudden, frequent and uncontrollable laughter that doesn't match how you feel. It can happen in people with a brain injury or certain neurological conditions._

Oh god... he was laughing because of a mental illness and I just... I just _left_? Fuck. Any embarrassment I'd been feeling flew out the window and was replaced with a huge pit of guilt. I could just imagine how people would react to something like this; he probably got treated like a weirdo everywhere he went. And I hadn't been any better! I just backed away from him like he was a freak and-- oh shit, poor Arthur. I had to fix this. But I'd already eaten his cupcake too! Now what?

I was in front of Arthur's door once more, still in my pajamas. I knocked, desperate to apologize. But there was no answer. I tried again, a little louder, just in case. Nothing. Maybe he'd gone out somewhere? I felt so agitated. Sure, I could wait until I next saw him, but I couldn't stand the idea of him thinking I was so insensitive for more than a second longer.

I mentioned this before, but I'd always been called _freak_ and _weird_ growing up. By my social workers, potential foster parents, other kids. People tried to bully me for it but I was never the kinda person who could be bullied (I usually just sucker punched them in the nose and they'd shut right up, easy huh?). They tried to diagnose me with this and that, ADD, bipolar, I can't even remember half the names - they just seemed so desperate to stick a label on me. Tried really hard to drug me up too; god knows how many pills ended up down the toilet of my foster home over the time I lived there. Anyway, I think that's why I was so bothered about what happened. I hated the idea that Arthur would think I was wigged out by him or that I thought any less of him. I didn't want to be like all the people who told me there was something wrong with me and besides, so he laughed a little more than everyone else, what was the big deal? Us freaks gotta stick together, right?

Where would he be? Was he in bed already? From the dark smudges that I always noticed under his eyes, I got the distinct impression he didn't spend much of his time sleeping. No, he'd probably gone out - he was a smoker right? Maybe he'd stepped out for a cigarette... it was worth a try.

* * *

Arthur was ascending the 131 steps of the stairway near Sunshine Estates, cigarette in hand. His day had taken a rather unpleasant turn and the only thing he could think of to not feel like he wanted to kill himself was to take a walk. It was only half working. Things seemed to have been going so well when he'd visited the Gotham Griddle that morning. Harley had said it was cool that he did comedy. Not to mention she'd said he seemed like a nice guy! Arthur cursed himself for not stifling the laughter better. He could've stuffed his sleeve in his mouth and said he had a cough or made some other excuse, but he was just taken so off guard by her gesture that he couldn't think quickly.

"Arthur?"

Arthur looked up in surprise; he could recognize that voice in an instant.

"Harley?"

Harley was sitting on the steps at the entrance to their apartment, still in her pajamas. The same pajamas that had nearly made Arthur's eyes bug out of his head when he saw her at his door, the pajamas that showed off even more of Harley's beautiful body than he'd seen before. A lacy vest cut in a deep V that hung off her breasts. Shorts that, although loose fitting barely reached more than a couple of inches down her thigh. The fabric looked so flimsy... it would be so easy to tear them right off...

"Oh Arthur, I'm glad I found you!" Harley stood up, and her bare, milky white legs shone in the moonlight. She hopped down the stairs to meet him. "Arthur I'm so sorry I ran off earlier! I didn't mean-- I wasn't trying to--" She paused, composing herself. "I guess I just... I thought you were laughing at me..." She explained, looking apologetic. "For bringing you the cake. I know, it was stupid anyway, but I was embarrassed and I thought--"

"It's fine. It happens." Arthur shrugged. It wasn't like he wasn't used to people reacting to his condition in such a way. He didn't need to hear her explain; getting any sort of apology was so far from what he expected and he'd never been mad about it. Besides, she looked so earnest he was a little shocked. Why was she being so _nice_?

"I'm sure it happens a lot..." Harley mumbled. "But still, I want you to know it won't ever happen again. Oh... also..." She looked guilty again, biting her lip and looking at the ground, and Arthur longed to wrap her in a hug, to stroke her cheek and tell her it was all okay. He also wished _he_ could be the one biting that lip.

She looked at him once more "I um... I ate your cupcake."

Arthur paused, then laughed, and it was a genuine, amused laugh, something that didn't happen very often. She was so worried about that? Honestly he'd forgotten about the cake, he wasn't a huge fan of sweet things. Besides, he preferred her to eat it if she was so hungry she had to steal food off plates at work.

"Don't worry about it." He assured her, and she looked relieved. Arthur ran a hand through his hair. "Should-- We should go back upstairs. You'll- uh... catch a cold."

Harley yawned and stretched, which pulled her shirt up a little at the hem, exposing her navel. Arthur tried not to stare. He really did.

"You're right." She agreed. "Lets go."

As luck had it, the elevator was on the ground floor so they both squeezed into the small metal box together and ascended to the third. They reached Arthur's front door and Harley yawned once more.

"Ohh man, getting up tomorrow is going to be rough. Goodnight Arthur!" She waved, walking the few steps to her own place.

Arthur breathed out a content sigh, happy at least knowing she wasn't too far away.

"Goodnight Harley."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention, this story roughly follows the events/timeline of the movie, minus Sophie and some other details.

"Good morning Arthur! Coffee?" I stopped at Arthur's usual table. He had become a regular at the cafe - or perhaps he'd already been a regular; it was hard to remember all the customers when you saw so many unfamiliar faces every day. He usually came around the same time - first thing in the morning, but occasionally he would come in the evening and stay until close - and he always ordered the same thing. Just one coffee, which he would nurse for a couple of hours. He tipped well, but not as exorbitantly as the first time - he must've realized he would become penniless if he did that every time. Whatever the reason I was glad, since I didn't feel comfortable taking money that he needed as much as I did.

At some point, Arthur's visits became part of my routine too, and I found myself watching for him to arrive in the morning. I usually had his coffee ready before he sat down.

"Hey Ivy?" I entered the serving area, where Ivy was dispensing Sprite at the soda fountain. "Oh while you're there, can you grab me a couple cokes? I need one large and one medium."

"Yeah, sure..." Ivy paused, her hand frozen on one of the buttons.

"...Ivy?"

She stared at the cups for a second. Then burst into tears.

"Ivy? What's wrong?" I dumped my serving tray on the table and rushed over to her, immediately wrapping my arms around her. "What is it sweetie?"

Ivy hiccuped and wiped at her eyes fiercely. "It’s nothing. Nothing! Seriously I’m- I’m just being a crybaby."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Ivy, I know when you’re bullshitting me. It’s definitely not nothing. I knew you seemed off recently."

Ivy didn't respond, but began to cry harder, her shoulders heaving with sobs.

"...Is it Pete?" I knew the answer before the question was even out of my mouth. Ivy let out a mix between a moan and a wail before burying her face in her hands, almost choking on her tears.

"Oh sweetie..." I sighed heavily and pulled her into my chest, holding her in a tight embrace. "What did he do this time?" This wasn't the first time I'd found Ivy crying over her piece of shit boyfriend Pete. Probably the fifth, or sixth, or tenth...

Ivy gulped, struggling to speak through her tears. "H-He...we got into an argument a few days ago b-but I thought we'd made up... but t-then... -hic- I was at the m-mall and I -hic- saw him--"

I gritted my teeth. "He didn't. Not again."

"I s-saw him... with his tongue down some random chick’s t-throat. His hands -hic- all over her too... -hic-"

"Fuck..." I hugged Ivy tighter as she trembled with grief. I couldn't stand to see her in such pain. "Look… I know I’m supposed to wait a little before I trash talk him, but... you already know what I think about him. How many times has he done this to you now? That you know about?!" I was growing angrier by the second. "He’s a total dick Ivy! Can't you see you’re better off without him?"

"He's-- It's not... I'm just... high maintenance sometimes... and--"

I wanted to shake her. "Ivy, are you seriously blaming this on yourself right now? Have you ever been _anything_ but faithful to him? This is all _him_. You know it. Well I'm done seeing him hurt you. You're breaking up with him. You can do it over the phone. He doesn't deserve anything more."

Ivy sniffed. "B-but... h-he won’t let me break up with him. He’ll talk me out of it, I know it. He always does... he acts so sweet and I just... it's so hard to say no to him."

"Well I'm going to be there with you, and I'm not going to let that happen. And then we're going out to drink and forget about him. OK?"

"O-ok..." Ivy wiped her eyes. "I-I'm sorry for crying so much I just--" She smoothed her apron and looked at her reflection. "I-I need to get back to work... I've already taken way too long with these drinks..." She loaded up several glasses of soda.

"Hey, c'mon." I took the tray away from her. "I can cover your section for thirty minutes okay? You take your time and freshen up."

Ivy smiled through her tears. "Thanks Harles. What would I do without you?"

I grimaced. "You probably would’ve married your first asshole boyfriend."

* * *

We stopped by Ivy's house after work to get changed and make the dreaded phone call.

Oh- you're probably wondering why I don't live with Ivy right? Well I would _love_ to if I could, but here's the thing - Ivy moved out when she was sixteen - into the apartment she's still in now. The landlord became very fond of her, pretty much sees her as a second daughter; so her rent hasn't gone up since the first year. And an apartment like that, close to central Gotham? Neither of us could afford it at normal prices, so Ivy would be nuts to move out. And it's a one bedroom - it wasn't an option for me to move in unless I wanted to permanently sleep on the couch.

It was probably for the best; if I did live with her I'd have to tolerate visits from my least favorite person on earth.

"Okay, know what you're going to say?" I held out the phone to Ivy.

"Y-yes... I think so."

"Great, now remember; he's a good for nothing piece of shit who treats you like crap, and no matter what he says you're going to break up with him, ok?"

"O-ok..." I wished she sounded a little more confident about it.

"If you find yourself being persuaded by him remember how you felt when you saw him with his tongue down another girl's throat." I hit dial as she put the phone to her ear.

"H-hi Pete... N-no I'm not meeting you tonight... Because... because..."

She looked at me and I gestured urgently for her to continue.

"Because I- I'm breaking up with you. ...No it- it's over Pete! I know you cheated on me _again_ and I've had it!" Ivy's voice grew stronger as she became more upset. "I don't want to meet you to talk it over, I don't want to see you ever again! I'm getting my stuff from your place and that's the last you'll see of me! ...I- Yes Harley is here-- no this is _me_ telling you! No! I- Fine, talk to Harley!" Ivy thrust the phone at me and I took it, glad to give the motherfucker a piece of my mind.

"Hey douche. Ivy doesn't have anything else to say to you, she's no longer your girlfriend. ...No- Ivy is not acting crazy! I'm _not_ telling her what to say. ...Hah! Don't give me that, Ivy saw you kissing that hoe at the mall. You can't just talk your way out of this one! This is the last time you get to treat her like shit, Ivy is done with you. Right Ivy?"

"R... right..."

"...Well fuck you too!" I handed Ivy the phone. "He wants to talk to you again."

"W-what, Pete? ...No it's not just Harley making things up! I-I am breaking up with you! Yes I am! N-no I won't-- Yes, but-- I-- No. ...you do...? B-but... well, I guess so but-- ...Oh... you did...? Well--"

I snatched the phone off Ivy again. "Ok, bye prick we gotta go! Enjoy your life alone. I hope you fall on the subway tracks and die." I hung up.

"Harley! Don't you think that was a bit much...?"

I raised an eyebrow at her, glad that I'd taken the phone when I had. Her resolve was clearly weakening. "Nothing is too much for that shitstain, sweetie." I slammed the phone back in it's holder, perhaps a little too hard. "Well, now that that's done, let's go get smashed."

Ivy looked at me uncertainly. "Ok..."

Roughly an hour later, we were both squished into a booth at Lux, one of the more upmarket bars in Gotham's downtown. Ivy was several drinks deep and seemed to have passed her "happy-drunk" phase and barreled straight to the "feeling-sorry-for-herself phase". It was going to be harder than I thought to get her to forget about this one.

Ivy's love life was a bit of a travesty; she had a knack for picking the _worst_ guys and then falling hopelessly in love with them. I'd almost gotten used to picking up the pieces of a broken-hearted Ivy every couple of months. Pete had to be the absolute worst of the worst though; the number of times I'd walked in on her crying because of something he did... well you can see why I hate his guts.

Not that I had any place to judge though - my love life was just as tragic; it was virtually nonexistent.

It wasn't like I hadn't had a boyfriend before - I'd actually had quite a few, and that was kinda the problem. Every time I dated someone, the relationship lasted no more than a couple of weeks because I'd just... well... lose interest. We'd go out a couple of times and it would be fun, but then it would lose its novelty, and they'd want to keep hanging out but I'd just start to find it exhausting and boring. I probably shouldn't have agreed to date most of them in the first place; if somebody asked me out I'd just shrug and agree. Not a great approach, I admit. Honestly I don't think I was even attracted to most of them, just indifferent. I thought that was just what relationships were like; you just find someone to tolerate and go through the motions with them, get married and have kids. Nothing exciting, just what you were expected to do in life.

There was one exception though - at the age of sixteen I started dating this guy called Jack. He was 27 and had a motorbike and he was just so _cool_ I was absolutely infatuated with him. Incidentally it was my longest relationship at 4 months and when he broke up with me I was _devastated_. Jack had given a taste of what love actually was and I hadn't experienced it since - there was something about boys my age that just... didn't do it for me. They were just so immature and selfish and _boring_.

That was why I was only half listening to the young men who had bought us several rounds of drinks and were clearly trying to take us home. They were objectively handsome, and charming, I guess. They earned a lot of money. There was no reason why I shouldn't be attracted to them. But I wasn't. It was honestly an effort to even politely continue the conversation. Sometimes I wished I was a bit more normal like Ivy. These guys, as were most of the guys we met when we went out, were totally her type. The only reason she charmed by their advances was because she was so cut up about Pete.

As if to confirm this, I realized Ivy had turned the conversation to her ex.

"He was probably just upset you know? We had an argument, maybe he was just acting out... I shouldn't break up with him over nothing right?" She wobbled in her seat, spilling her Sex on the Beach all down her front. The men looked at each other uncertainly.

"Okaaay, I think it's time to get you home. Nice to meet you, thanks for the drinks." I stood Ivy up, wiping her down and half-carrying her to the door. 

"Take-- take me to Pete's house, I need to apologize and tell him to take me back." She slurred. "Please Harleen."

"Sure... let's go to Pete's house." It was easier just to tell Ivy what she wanted to hear in these situations, she'd pass out as soon as I got her in to bed anyway.

And pass out she did; not more than a moment we crossed the threshold of her apartment. I dragged her into bed, left a glass of water and showed myself out.

The world wobbled a little as I descended the stairs from Ivy's place; I was apparently more drunk than I'd realized. Not that it mattered - I had to be on the verge of blackout to not be able to take care of myself. I didn't need anyone to look out for me.

I looked at my watch. It was nearly 2AM. ...Fuck I had to be up at 6:30 - why did I do this to myself?!

I headed for the subway.

* * *

It was 2:33 AM and Arthur hadn't slept a wink. Not unusual, but this time it wasn't just because of Arthur's insatiable insomnia; it was because Harley hadn't returned from work.

Arthur had been home since well before 8PM, which was when Harley got off work on Thursdays - he knew this for a fact: Arthur was well acquainted with her schedule - and he hadn't heard any footsteps, keys jingling or doors opening. He'd even gone to the extent of knocking at her door, after pressing his ear to the wood, straining to hear something. He was pretty positive she wasn't in there, and that troubled him. Why wasn't she back yet? What if she'd been attacked on her way home? She had a bad habit of travelling home late, alone, in dangerous areas of the city, and she clearly didn't have much self-awareness. She was too sweet and naive to ever suspect anyone had bad intentions and would probably follow somebody down a dark alley if they told her to. Arthur cursed himself for not following her home every day like he'd originally planned; he'd have to talk to Hoit and rearrange some of his gigs, clearly she needed better supervision. He needed to keep Harley safe.

However, there was an alternative possibility tucked away at the back of Arthur's mind, one that he didn't want to acknowledge because it made him feel like he wanted to punch a hole in the drywall. He knew Harley occasionally went out to bars with her friend, the red haired one - Lily or something. Arthur didn't approve, but he couldn't do much about it right now - he'd have to wait until he'd been in a relationship with Harley for a while before he started forbidding her to do certain things. Even if she _had_ gone out though, Harley didn't normally come back this late, especially when she had to work the next day. Arthur was forced to acknowledge the possibility... what if she'd... gone home with someone? Just the thought made him ball his hands into fists and bite down on his cigarette in fury.

But no, she wouldn't do that - not his Harley. She was too pure and innocent. She wasn't a whore.

The only explanation then, was that she was in trouble. What if she was laying in an alleyway somewhere, bleeding out after being raped at knifepoint? Arthur started pulling on his jacket. If someone had hurt his Harley... he was going to kill them.

Just then - Arthur heard footsteps, followed by humming.

He knew it was her before he even looked through the peephole; he recognized her light, skipping footsteps, and the sweet warmth of her voice. Every part of his body relaxed; she was safe. Arthur opened his door a crack as she passed and he noticed she seemed a little off balance. She was wearing heels, which could've been why, but they weren't particularly high and didn't account for how she was almost dancing side to side down the corridor. She wasn't wearing her work uniform - which pretty much confirmed Arthur's theory that she'd gone out - instead, she wore a red dress that wasn't incredibly flashy but hugged her curves and showed skin in all the right places. Arthur's eyes wandered down the back of her legs as she reached her apartment, taking in as much as possible before it was too late. She began to unlock her door, and Arthur wasn't ready for her to be gone, not yet. Should he go and talk to her? He hovered in the doorway awkwardly, torn between his fear of rejection and strength of desires.

Several minutes later, Harley seemed to be struggling with the lock still.

"Damn it! Stupid door! I just want to sleep..." She whined, collapsing against the door in defeat.

Before Arthur knew what he was doing, he was standing behind her.

"Hey... Harl-"

"Wah!!" Harley squeaked and jumped back, before looking up at him in realization. "Oh, hi Arthur!" She bounced forward, suddenly as chipper as before. "Sorry, you startled me." Arthur could smell the alcohol on her breath now that she was closer; she was definitely drunk.

"I-I was wondering... are you-- do you need help with your door? I uh... saw you having trouble..." Arthur trailed off, wondering how to explain he happened to be watching her at 3AM. "I was- I um--"

Harley however, didn't seem to notice that it might be weird that he happened to witness her ordeal. A happy smile stretched across her face. "Really? Do you think you can fix it?! Please, if you can!" She held up her key, hopping up and down on the spot in excitement and Arthur just wanted to hug her; she was so adorable.

It wasn't too difficult to get it open - one because Arthur had become used to the stiffness of the doors in Sunshine Estates, but two because drunk Harley was clearly a little incapable of doing anything beyond simple tasks.

"You usually just have to force it a bit here, and then--" Arthur gave the doorframe a sharp kick. The door swung open.

Harley gasped and clapped her hands together. "Oh my gosh!! Arthur thank you thank you!"

There was a whirl of blonde hair and red fabric and suddenly Arthur found himself in Harley's embrace.

Harley's.

Embrace.

Her arms were wrapped around his middle, her face buried against his chest. Her perfume filled his nose and he could feel her breasts pushed up against his torso; it was possibly the closest thing to heaven Arthur had ever felt.

Arthur's nethers twitched and he felt himself growing hard; it was impossible for her body pressing up against him not to cause a reaction, and his slacks tightened significantly as he grew to his full length. Arthur felt the tip of his manhood pressing against Harley's thigh and he panicked, ready to push Harley away as she surely felt it; but she seemed not to, continuing to hug him tight, a content look on her face. Arthur's hands hovered above her shoulders in uncertainty. He was just standing there, letting her hug him, because he didn't know what to do otherwise.

There were so many things he _wanted_ to do; wrap his arms around her shoulders and return her embrace, hook an arm around her waist and pull her even closer to him, lift her chin and bring her mouth to his, kiss her hard and deep, pull her into her apartment and to the bed, grind his aching pelvis into hers, hold her down and fuck her into the mattress.

But Arthur knew he didn't have the guts to do any of these things. He wasn't confident, or suave, or charming. He hadn't dated a girl in his life. Having a mental illness didn't exactly make you desirable to the opposite sex. But even beyond that, Arthur had always been timid. How did people have the confidence to just go for things? How did they not care about the consequences if it wasn't the right thing to do? How did they deal with the humiliation and rejection? Arthur looked down at the top of Harley's head. Well, maybe it was time to stop caring about the consequences. Stop worrying about what other people thought or wanted and take what he wanted for once in his life. And he wanted Harley. He wanted Harley more than he could remember wanting anything before.

"Oof... my head." Harley pulled away and Arthur felt like someone had thrown an ice-cold bucket of water on him. All the warmth of her touch replaced with a cruel void of nothingness.

Harley briefly cradled her forehead in her palm before looking up at him once more. "Arthur, thank you so much again. I'm gonna go hit the hay before I pass out right here." And before turning to enter her apartment, Harley stood up on the balls of her feet and planted a kiss on Arthur's cheek.

"Night Arthur!"

"I- ...n-night..." Arthur held his hand to his face, staring after her.


	5. Chapter 5

The next day was a Wednesday afternoon, and I was loading waffles onto three separate trays. We ran "Waffle Wednesday", which should give you an idea of how many damn waffles I'd served so far that day.

"Harley, help!" Ivy dashed into the serving area in a weird, crouched over position - as if she was hiding from something.

"Ivy? What's going on?"

"Pete and his friends just came in... " She looked over her shoulder nervously. "What should I do? Maybe I should talk to him..."

I groaned. "Ugh... are you fucking kidding me..." I finished arranging plates onto the serving tray I was carrying. "No. You're switching sections with me and _I'm_ going to talk to him."

"But..." 

I forced the serving tray in her arms. "Here. Table 20."

I was tired, hungover, and generally in a bad mood. This was the last thing I needed. Pete and his friends were so rowdy it was easy to spot them across the restaurant; it was with little enthusiasm that I approached their table.

"Welcome to the Gotham Griddle. Order something or get out."

Pete had brought his two best douchebag friends: Donny, the chunkiest one of the three and also the most vulgar, and the blond, Jeffrey, who was the best yes-man Pete could hope for.

Donny grinned up at me. "Ooh, that’s no way to talk to paying customers Harley! Do we need to get your manager?"

Pete slicked back his hair. "Where's Ivy?

I folded my arms. "She's busy serving."

"I just saw her, I'm sure she has a bit of time to serve us too."

"Sorry. You're in my section. Bad luck."

"I thought you guys switched sections all the time?"

"You thought wrong." I snapped. "Now if you're done telling me how to do my job, are you going to order?"

"Aw c’mon Harles," Jeffrey leaned forward on the table, grinning foolishly. "What’s got your panties in a twist?

"I bet she’s just uptight because nobody has got her panties in a twist in a while if you know what I mean." Donny smirked, nudging Jeffrey and causing them both to collapse in cascades of laughter.

"You're probably right. Need someone to help you relax a little Harles? I’m happy to help." Jeffrey winked.

I took a deep breath. _They're not worth getting worked up over, they're not worth getting worked up over._

"I'd rather stab forks in my eyes." I replied, cooly.

Pete chimed in once more before either of them could retort. "Tell you what. I want you both to serve us. How much?"

I massaged my temples in exasperation. "What are you talking about?"

"I’ll give you a generous tip if we get table service from both of you at the same time. Especially if you give us, you know, a bit of a personal touch."

 _Ugh_! This was the kind of thing I was talking about with Wayne Enterprises employees. So entitled and lecherous and just... thinking they can make anyone do what they want if they throw money around? Disgusting.

I gritted my teeth. "Let me recap. I'm serving you. Ivy's busy. Just tell me what you want to eat or get out."

"What _about_ after work Harley?" Donny piped up. "I’d also pay a generous tip for both of you to service me. if you know what I mean."

All three began to hoot and holler once more, and it took all the patience I had to stand and wait for them to finish. Why did people like this exist?

"Hey- how much--" Jeffrey was struggling to speak through his guffaws. "How much to show us your tits? I heard you'll do it for a dollar-fifty."

I snapped. "Fuck you."

"Oh so that _is_ an option?"

"Not in your wildest dreams you fucking dickweed."

"Hey, you should watch that dirty mouth of yours Harleen." Pete sneered. "We're paying your salary. Don't make us complain and get you fired."

"I’d rather be unemployed and live on the streets than be polite to you pricks." I hissed.

They were all still laughing and sniggering like schoolboys and I couldn't stand it. Were all men like this?

"Listen, we won't leave you out if that's what you're worried about. Grab Ivy, come out with us tonight. Double date." Pete suggested this as if it would be a _privilege_ to join them.

Jeffrey pouted. "Hey man but there's three of us? Do me and Donny have to fight for Harley or what?"

"Naw c'mon, we can just take it in turns." Donny replied. "Harley's poor, she can appreciate two for the price of one better than anyone."

"You up for that Harley?"

I closed my eyes. "For the love of god, shut up before I stick this notepad up your ass."

"C'mon baby, don't be like that." Donny, who was the closest to me, reached out and pinched my butt with his fat fingers, making me yelp. "We know you're gagging for it"

I smacked his hand away and raised my own, ready to punch him into next week, but stopped myself. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

_Not worth it._

"Sorry, we can't make it. Now. What do you want to order?" It took every ounce of self control I had not to blow up.

"We want you to make us up something special. Your choice."

"You know what?" I smiled sweetly. "I know exactly what you guys will like. The _Harley_ special." I winked suggestively.

Pete smirked. Donny and Jeffrey exchanged excited looks.

"I'll be right back."

I headed to the serving area and began to prepare two milkshakes. Milkshakes with double the corn syrup and extra fake pink coloring.

"Harley?" Ivy sidled up to me.

"Yep?"

"...Well? What'd they say?"

"Oh they didn't say anything about you, they just wanted to order."

"But--"

"Sorry, gotta order up!"

I carried the syrupy concoctions back over to the boys' table, one in each hand.

"Heere you go!" I danced over to them, and with a swift movement, upturned both glasses over the guys' heads. Unfortunately I only had enough hands to throw one milkshake on both Donny and Jeffrey, but I was pretty happy with how evenly I coated them both. Pete had a milkshake to himself so was absolutely covered.

"Do you feel special now?" I grinned.

"Argh! What the fuck!"

"My suit!"

All three stood up in shock, and I watched in satisfaction as the thick, pink sludge dripped down their shoulders, under their shirt collars and into their pockets.

They all looked absolutely livid.

"You fucking bitch!" Pete yelled.

"Why the fuck would you do that?!"

"We have to go back to work in half an hour you bitch!"

"Then I suggest you take your sticky little wieners, shove them up your ass and get out."

"Cunt!"

"Whore!"

"Bitch!"

I smiled, waving them goodbye. And to their credit they did leave, leaving a trail of pink slime as they went.

Ivy appeared at my shoulder

"Harley!! Wha... what did you do…?!"

"I gave them the Harley special."

Ivy looked shocked but couldn't suppress a snicker. "Ugh Harles… you're going to be in deep shit for that…"

I shrugged. "Worth it."

"Worth it, was it?"

Oh shit.

I looked around to see Farrow looming over me, looking absolutely _livid_.

* * *

Arthur entered the Gotham Griddle. A little later than usual - he'd had an early morning job handing out flyers and some passers-by had decided to throw all his flyers in the garbage. Because what could be funnier than making a guy who was just trying to make an honest living, root through a disgusting Gotham city garbage can?

Because of this, he'd needed to go home and shower before he could make it down to see Harley. As he sat down, he saw her cleaning a table and she looked so weary and exhausted he was a little worried.

"Hey Harley."

"Oh! Hello Arthur. I didn't think I'd get to see you today." She smiled. "Coffee?"

"Ah- no, uh... a coffee and a latte..."

" _Two_ coffees?" She grinned. "Tired today, huh? Coming right up."

Arthur watched her walk away. Her hips swayed side to side and her tight skirt clung to the underside of her butt. Arthur twisted his fingers together. As much as he _loved_ to admire Harley's body, he didn't like it that she wore such things where other people could see. He wanted it all for himself.

"Here you go - one coffee, one latte."

"The uh- the latte is for you. I know you like them."

"For me...? Are you sure? Arthur you didn't have to do that..."

"It seems- seems like you need it."

"You're not wrong." She admitted, and Arthur didn't miss her weary sigh. She looked around surreptitiously - almost definitely checking to see if her boss was nearby - before sliding into the booth opposite him. He watched her as she fiddled around with the coffee stirrer, waiting for the coffee to cool down. He wanted to reach out and take her hand. But he didn't.

"Uh... how's your day been... so far?" He asked.

Harley sighed once more. "Not great... I um... _accidentally_ spilled milkshake all over these three customers." She looked at Arthur for a second, and the way she subsequently spoke seemed more real, as if she'd been holding back before. "Ok, maybe it wasn't an accident. I _purposefully_ dumped some extra sticky milkshakes over these three guys. But they deserved it... Anyway, my boss saw and he was not happy. I have to pay for the milkshakes and the dry cleaning. Basically all my paycheck." She laughed dryly. "Guess I'm not eating for a month..."

Arthur opened his mouth to speak but Harley continued on.

"Anyway that doesn't matter. What about you? How has your day been?"

Arthur thought about the flyers. And digging through the trash.

"It was... fine."

"Oh by the way..." Harley lowered her voice suddenly. "Did you hear that gunshot on our floor the other day? I swear it sounded like it was right outside my room... I thought I was going crazy but Ms. Fischer down the hall said she heard it too."

"Uh- gunshot?"

Of course she had heard it. It had gone off barely 20 feet away. The hole was still in Arthur's wall, hidden by a painting.

"N-no I didn't... I didn't hear anything."

"Oh weird... maybe I'm just hearing things."

They sat in silence for a little while. Harley sipped her latte.

"Do you like jokes?" Arthur blurted out, suddenly.

"Oh, I love jokes! Will you tell me one?"

Arthur grinned wide. Telling jokes was his specialty! He pulled out his notebook, skimming through a few pages.

"Ok, here's one."

"I'm ready."

"A daughter asked her mother, 'Mom, how do you spell scrotum?'” Arthur paused for comedic effect. "Her mom replied, 'Honey, you should have asked me last night—it was on the tip of my tongue!'"

Harley stared at him for a beat - she seemed confused. But then, a few seconds later, she snorted. She seemed embarrassed, because she covered her mouth and nose, but Arthur found it absolutely adorable. She began to snicker behind her palm.

"...Arthur...! That's so--" She was struggling to speak through her giggles.

Arthur's face stretched into a grin. Seeing Harley laugh was already such a joy but the fact that he'd been the one to make her laugh... it was a new level of wonderful. Arthur felt his throat fill with laughter as well - it wasn't really intentional, but at least it fit with the situation. Harley's giggles eventually died down but redoubled once more when Arthur continued (he tried to stop at the same time, but couldn't). It was a good five minutes before they both were able to settle down.

"Oh my god..." Harley gasped. "Ok, I definitely needed that."

Arthur knew this was the moment; he'd been building up the courage all week. He was going to ask her to come over to his place after work. It was time.

"Hey Har--"

"Oh shit..." Harley stood up suddenly, seeming not to have heard. "There's my boss. I better go. Arthur, thank you so much for the latte! I'll get the next one, ok?"

* * *

Another reason why Ivy and I put up with Farrow; he was pretty flexible in letting us choose our shifts. I usually only took one day off on the weekend because I needed the money, but occasionally I took both Saturday and Sunday off if I really needed a rest. I arrived at work the following Monday having done so, and I was feeling _so much_ less wound up because of it.

Arthur was one of the first ones in and I greeted him briefly, confirming his usual coffee order.

"Morning." I waved at Ivy, who was filing her nails next to the soda machine.

"Morning Harles!" She bounced over to me. "Happy Monday!"

I eyed her suspiciously. "Happy Monday? You hate Mondays."

"Don't be silly! Mondays are the best day of the week because I get to see your cute little face!"

Ivy had a bubbly personality, but this was a bit _too_ much, even for her. She normally took a couple of days to get over the end-of-the-weekend blues.

"You seem awfully chipper. There a reason why you're suddenly so happy?"

"What, am I not allowed to be happy?"

"Of course you are, I'm just surprised you're over Pete already."

It was meant to be an offhand comment but I noticed the way Ivy avoided my gaze all of a sudden.

"Wait... you _are_ still upset about Pete right?" I put my hand on my hips. "The guy who cheated on you multiple times, who you would be an absolute idiot to get back together with?"

She turned away, and pretended to be busy refilling the cup holder. "Yes, super upset."

"Ivy, look at me."

Ivy turned around slowly, and as soon as I saw her face, I knew.

"Ivy-- You got back together with him didn't you?! Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Listen Harley, it's not a big deal! We talked, and--"

"What did he tell you he's never going to cheat on you again? Just like he said the other five times?"

"I know he's made mistakes in the past, but..."

" _Mistakes_?" I laughed humorlessly. "Is that what you call them? He treats you like shit."

"He apologized. He just has a bad temper, but we're working on it."

"Having a bad temper doesn't give him an excuse."

"I know but he's trying really hard, he really is sorry--"

"Or he's just saying that to make you forgive him _again_."

"Look Harley." Ivy folded her arms, and I knew I wasn't going to win this argument. "We're back together. He said it's never going to happen again, ok? I'm happy, that's all you should care about."

I sighed. That _was_ all I cared about, but she was only happy until the next time he fucked up.

"I'm glad you're happy Ivy..." I muttered. "That's all I want for you."

I dropped the conversation. I was far from ok with this but I knew Ivy wasn't going to listen to me. I'd have to find some other way to deal with it. 

"Anyway, what about you? We're so busy talking about _my_ lovelife all the time, I'm starting to think you're trying to distract me from this new guy in _your_ life."

"Huh?" I looked at her, baffled. "What new guy?"

 _"What new guy?"_ She mimicked me. "Duh. That guy who always sits in your section."

"Who? I don't remember everyone who sits in my section. We have hundreds of customers."

"Oh don’t give me that Harley. The one who you sit and chat to for like half the day. I saw you all cozied up, giggling with him just last week." 

I realized with a jolt that she was talking about Arthur.

"I-- what are you talking about, _new guy_?! And it's not half the day! And that was just once, he's a comedian, he was telling me a joke."

"Oh, and you don’t spend three times as long taking his order than anyone else’s? Even though you know he's just going to order a coffee?" Ivy rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say Harles."

I often forgot how astute Ivy was, and that she knew me just as well as I knew her. Of course she noticed me talking to Arthur. But she was wrong if she thought it was anything more than just polite conversation.

"Ivy, I’m just being friendly. He’s my neighbor. His name is Arthur and he works nearby. That's all. Nothing else to it."

"Friendly, sure, sure." She held up her hands. "Look I'm not judging! I just, I never knew you had a thing for older men."

"Older men-- ?! Ivy! I'm not-- he's just-- he lives across from me, ok? I just want to stay friendly with my neighbors!"

Ivy snorted. "Since when do you care about ' _being friendly with your neighbors_ '? Besides, there’s definitely a look in your eye when you talk to him."

"No there isn't!" I protested, and Ivy raised an eyebrow. "Well... I'll admit I find him... mysterious. It just makes me curious you know? But it's not like I'm attracted to him or anything!"

"Whatever you say sweetie..." Ivy raised her palm to her mouth and coughed. " _Cough_ \- daddy kink - _cough_ "

I felt my face heat up. "Ivy! It’s not like that!"

"Aww, you're blushing!" Ivy squeezed one of my cheeks. "Oh I bet you want him to bend you over his knee and spank you for being a naughty girl!" She leaned over the serving counter, miming spanking herself with a spatula. "Oh! Spank me Daddy! Harley's been a bad girl!"

"God would you quit it?" I looked out at the customers, nervously.

Ivy just increased her volume. "Oh, Arthur! Fuck me! Harder, faster!"

"Jesus Ivy, he’s going to hear!"

"Harder Daddy, harder! Spank me! I need to be punish--"

I covered her mouth with my hand and she burst into a fit of giggles. Normally I would be laughing along with Ivy's inappropriate humor but this was too much. My cheeks were red hot and I was trembling a little. Why was this getting to me so much? If I was so bothered, was some of what she was saying right?

No, It was just because he was going to hear and that would make things _super awkward_. He lived opposite me, it wasn't like I could just avoid him.

Luckily, Arthur didn't seem to have noticed, but I wasn't able to look him in the eye for the rest of the day.


	6. Chapter 6

Ivy had been back together with Pete for almost two weeks, and things seemed like they were back to normal. Joy of joys. I didn't want _normal_ for Ivy. I wanted better. I stopped mentioning it though; I knew I wasn't going to get anywhere. That is, until Ivy showed up on a Monday morning with a huge bruise covering her right eye.

"...Ivy-- !!" I stared at her. "What the hell did you do?"

Ivy wailed. "You can see it? I thought I covered it up well!"

"If you find a foundation that can cover up a bruise that dark, please let me know. I can use it for my dark circles. But for real, it looks like you got punched in the face."

Ivy said nothing.

"Ivy... seriously, what happened? You always seem to be injured recently, I swear I don't remember you being this clumsy."

As soon as I said it, it was as though something had clicked in my brain. Ivy wasn't this clumsy. It was only recently that this had started happening and it seemed to line up perfectly with a certain somebody being in her life.

I swallowed hard, and my throat was like sandpaper. "Ivy.... Please don't tell me this-- ...Pete did this to you didn't he?"

Ivy shook her head, but wouldn't look me in the eye.

"Ivy. Tell me the truth."

"He didn't..."

"Ivy, please. Stop insulting me by lying."

"I… We were just messing around in bed and he slipped--"

" _Slipped_? I’m not an idiot Ivy."

"No well-- he-- I-- "

"He did it on purpose. He hit you didn't he?"

"N-No--"

"Ivy--"

"Fine! He-- we had an argument, and things got heated and-- I don’t know, he was upset! He lashed out! It was my fault for stressing him out, he felt really bad and he apologized, it was just a mistake! Why are you making such a big deal out of this?!"

I was speechless. And shaking.

"...Such a big deal?! Are you _kidding_ me? Your boyfriend fucking beats you and you think I'm making a big deal out of it?"

"Yes! Harley, this doesn't concern you so butt out, ok?"

Ivy seemed angry at _me_. At me!

"But--"

"I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I need to get to work."

"Ivy--"

Ivy pushed past me, heading out of the serving area.

_Fuck..._

I knew Pete sucked as a boyfriend but this? He was actually physically hurting her?

He needed to go.

I tried to bring it up with Ivy several more times that day, but every time she would completely block me out, begin talking to a customer, or basically do anything to not talk about it. One time she even called Farrow saying I'd thrown another milkshake, which was a total dick move.

I could tell she was actually pissed at me over this, which was _super_ unfair. Why was she so resistant to me just taking care of her? If anything I should've been angry at _her_ for putting my through this bullshit constantly. Well, I guess I was a little angry, but not enough to make me let it go. I knew I had to come up with another plan though, so I stopped bringing it up. And eventually Ivy began talking to me again, and things seemed to go back to normal.

Internally though, I was panicking. I couldn't think of another plan. This was totally beyond me, I had absolutely no _idea_ what to do. If Ivy wasn't so resistant it would've been easier but she wouldn't even let me mention his name anymore.

* * *

A week or so later, Ivy insisted that we go for a night out. I agreed; the stress and worry churning in my mind had made me desperate for a drink. Also, perhaps I'd have more luck broaching the topic if Ivy was somewhat tipsy. We were sitting in a booth at Lux when my three least favorite people suddenly slid in next to us.

"Hey babe." Pete wrapped an arm around Ivy, kissing the top of her head.

"Hey baby."

 _"Hey baby."_ Donny shimmied up next to me and imitated his friend, lifting up his arm in a similar gesture.

"Touch me and I will smash your face into the table." I growled, standing up. "What the fuck are you pricks doing here?"

"What do you mean? You ladies invited us." Jeffrey said.

"I think you're confused, because there is no way in hell we would--" I glanced at Ivy. She wouldn't look me in the eye and had guilt spread across her face. I sighed. _Of course._ "Move." I pushed Donny and Jeffrey out of the way. "Enjoy your night."

"Harles--- don't go, wait--!"

I ignored Ivy, shouldering my bag and marching for the exit.

"Harley-- Harles wait!" She grabbed my arm. " Just hear me out ok?"

"Hear you out?! You know how I feel about this dickhead and still you trick me into spending a whole evening with him and his trash friends? What is up with you lately?"

"But-- look... I just think if you give Pete a chance... I just want you to see he can be a good boyfriend. Maybe you'll be surprised."

I snorted. "I doubt it."

"Harles... please?" She clung on to me. "Just this once, please. If I'm wrong, I promise I won't do this ever again."

"If you're wrong, how about you break up with him?"

"Fine I will."

I snorted. _I'll believe that when I see it._

"Harley please... I know I'm asking a lot but... just do this for me okay?"

I sighed, massaging my temples. "...Fine. But this is a ONE time thing, ok? And I'm not expecting anything."

"Yay! Thank you!" Ivy threw her arms around me and I hugged her back stiffly. We headed back to the table and I relucantly sat down next to Jeffrey, making no effort to hide my disgust.

The rest of the evening went as terribly as I'd have guessed it would. We sat around as the three of them made their trashy, immature jokes, Jeffrey and Donny making suggestive comments towards me every couple of minutes, and Ivy not interested in anything except hanging on Pete's every word while snuggling up against his bicep.

It was somewhere near midnight when Pete stood up.

"Guys, let's get some drinks from the downstairs bar." He proposed. "We'll just be a few minutes babe." He reassured Ivy.

Minutes turned to half an hour. Half an hour turned to two hours. Don't get me wrong, I was _much_ happier with them gone, but unfortunately Ivy couldn't focus on anything except where they'd gone and when they'd be back.

"Pete should be back soon..." Ivy mumbled drunkenly, for the fifth time.

"Let's go for a dance." I suggested. "Maybe we'll see him from the dance floor."

Ivy agreed and we made our way down a floor, to the sprawling tiled floor filled with dancing Gothamites.

"I need to pee first, let's go that way."

"Oh but... what if Pete comes while we're in there?"

"We'll be two minutes!"

"But--"

"Fine, stay here. I'll be back."

I pushed my way through the crowd towards the restrooms, sulking. What happened to hoes before bros? But then, as I reached the restroom door I saw a glimpse of a young man and woman laughing and sneaking out the side door.

It was Pete. And that definitely _wasn't_ Ivy. It was a brunette, who was wearing what was essentially lingerie.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me..."

I changed direction, heading after them.

Wasting absolutely no time, the pair were already making out up against the wall outside. _Making out._ While his girlfriend was mere meters away. I lunged forward, grabbing Pete's arm and yanking him away.

"Are you serious right now? I mean, are you for _real_?"

"What, Harley?"

"You know exactly what, Pete. God, my expectations were already so low but you still manage to disappoint me."

" _Excuse_ me--" The girl tapped me on the shoulder indignantly.

"Yes, excuse you!" I turned to her. "Number one, this prick has a girlfriend. And number two, believe me when I say I'm doing you a favor. You don't want to get anywhere near this stain of the earth."

She blinked at me, but didn't move.

"Leave!" I snapped.

"Ugh... fine... bitch..."

"C'mon Harley, we earned that piece of ass and now you're chasing her away?" Jeffrey was apparently there too, lurking to the side with Donny.

"I'm just trying to spare the innocent." I scowled.

"So not only are you not gonna give us some, you're preventing us from getting it elsewhere?"

"No, it's fine guys. I know what Harley really wants." Pete stepped towards me, and he was a good head taller than I was so I had to crane my neck upwards a little. "I know this is all just to get my attention."

"To... get your...?" My brain was having trouble understanding what he could possibly mean. I heard the words but they didn't make sense.

"If you wanted me that badly, all you had to do was ask."

Suddenly his hands were at my hips and he was leaning in and I completely froze. What the fuck was he doing?! Luckily, I came back to my senses in time to give him the hardest shove I could possibly manage, seconds before his lips touched mine. It was a good shove: despite the size he had on me, he stumbled back a few steps.

"Ugh! Ew! Ew, ew, ew!" I wanted to vomit. "Never in a billion years, are you kidding me? What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Pete looked irritated but stepped towards me once more. "Come on. I know this is just an act, Harley. It's okay to be jealous of your friend. I know that's why you've been trying to sabotage our relationship"

"Jealous? In your dreams--"

"We can make it reality if you want, I won’t tell."

"What? Hey- no get off me! Pete!" Pete advanced on me once more and this time he had the better sense to grab my arms so I couldn't lash out.

"C’mon Harley, don’t be shy. It can be our little secret."

"Pete-- stop! Get off me!"

My back hit brick; I was trapped between this lumbering jackass and the wall, his hands were roaming over my body and I couldn't throw him off.

"Pete get off m-- mmpphh!"

He was kissing me. Oh god his lips were actually touching mine.

I thrashed underneath him and attempted to scream as soon as he broke the kiss, but he pressed my lips closed with one of his big disgusting fingers.

"Shh..."

My eyes widened in horror.

"Give in to what you want Harley."

I relaxed my body, letting him approach once more. To him, it seemed like I was giving in to his charms, but in reality I was waiting for him to get into just the right position so I could knee him in the balls. And I did. _Hard_.

"Ow! JESUS! Fucking bitch!" He stumbled back, and I sidestepped him so I was no longer trapped between him and the wall.

Before he had time to fully recover, I slapped him across the face as hard as my arm muscles would allow, and it stung my hand but I didn't care. I was positively _seething_.

"Y-you asshole! Are you- are you fucking kidding me? You don’t think I’m going to tell Ivy about this?" I was shaking with anger.

"So what?"

"She’ll fucking kick you to the curb, that’s what!"

"Aw... but we both know that’s not true." Pete smirked. "If cheating was a deal breaker she would’ve left me by now." He reached out and squeezed my chin between his thumb and forefinger and I shook him off, disgusted.

"I’ll tell her that you tried to rape me!"

"Don't you get it? It doesn't matter what you tell her or what I do. Because I know she'll keep coming back to me. And I’ll keep her around as long as I want - until I get bored at least."

I clenched my fists. "I’m not going to let that happen."

"Oh? And what are you going to do about it? Ivy’s an adult Harley, she makes her own decisions. She’ll pick me over you and you know it."

I snatched the drink Jeffrey was holding and dumped it over his head. I was ready to rage at him once more when Pete retaliated with a sharp slap that cut across my cheek and clipped the side of my nose.

Pete's voice was low and threatening. "You gotta stop throwing drinks on me Harleen."

I won't lie; it hurt. Honestly it stung like a motherfucker, but I refused to show that to him: I grit my teeth and swallowed the pain.

"This is how you treat Ivy isn't it?" I growled. "Every time her face was red, she had random bruises, that time she ripped her nail off... that was all you, wasn't it? I know you gave her that black eye!"

Pete smiled nastily. "So does she, but she’s still here isn’t she? Clinging to my every word." He sucked his teeth, and there wasn't even a scrap of remorse in his expression. "Harleen, once you're in a relationship, you'll understand that it's my job as the man to put a woman in her place when it's needed. Hell, you run your mouth so much you're _begging_ for a guy to beat you into submission."

Pete grabbed my dress by the scruff, lifting slightly so I was on my toes.

"Now I'm gonna go find her, take her home, and fuck her until I get bored. And yeah, if she annoys me I'll do what I need to do to make her shut up. And there's nothing you can do about it." He released me, smirked and turned on his heel.

"That's what you think!" I started to march after him, but screeched to a halt when my path was blocked by blondie and fatty.

"Get out of my way." I hissed.

"C'mon Harley, leave them be. There's still enough of us to go around."

"Yeah why do you have to be so obsessed with Pete when you have two single guys right in front of you?"

"Move. Before I hurt you."

"Don't be like that." Jeffrey put an arm around my waist. "Stay with us."

I was out of patience, and out of time. It wasn't time for warning shots; I straight up punched Jeffrey in the face.

"F-- Ow! Bitch! What the _fuck_!"

"Now move!"

"Donny grab her!"

Donny lumbered forward and slid his arms under mine, pulling them around my back. As an added bonus, he held me back with his hands on my chest, one on each boob. He squeezed them between his clumsy hands, sniggering.

"Nice tittays!"

"You're disgusting!"

I kicked back and up, hitting Donny square in the nads and making him release me. In the seconds before I was grabbed once more I rummaged in my purse and pulled out a tiny spray bottle.

"Get the fuck out of my way. You want an eyeful of this?"

"Is that pepper spray?" Jeffrey stepped towards me. "C'mon Harley we were just joking around!"

"Well I'm not!" I held the can up to his face and he retreated once more. "Don't follow me, or I'll spray so much of this you'll go blind for a week." I backed up towards the door, alternating between aiming at Donny's and Jeffrey's face. Luckily they'd seen how much of a crazy bitch I could be, so they didn't doubt my words.

Once I was inside, I began to run, hoping to god Ivy and Pete hadn't left yet. And by some sheer miracle, Pete wasn't even with her. Considering he had ditched us for so long and we'd been moving around the packed club, he probably didn't know where to find her.

"Ivy." I ran up to her. "We have to go, c'mon."

She lurched out of her seat drunkenly. "Harleeeeeeen! I missed you!"

"I missed you too, now please, let's go." I began to push her towards the exit.

"Where's Pete?"

"He left. Come on, I'm tired and you're drunk."

"He left? B-but... noo..."

I spotted Pete across the dance floor, searching the crowd. He hadn't seen us yet but it was only a matter of time.

"He said he's really sorry, and he'd call you when he got home, ok? So quick, let's go. So you don't miss his call." We stumbled out onto the sidewalk and I raised my arm.

"Taxi!"

God, a taxi was the last thing I could afford right now. But I couldn't think of a way to get out of there without Pete and his lackeys following us. I checked over my shoulder nervously as the yellow cab pulled up in front of us.

"There you go sweetie... careful. Please don't puke until you get home..." I helped Ivy into her seat, pulling the seat belt over her and giving the driver the address. As the cab pulled away I saw Pete, Jeffrey and Donny emerge from the club, spotting me through the window.

"HEY!"

"Harley you fucking bitch!"

Luckily, their yells were muffled by the glass and Ivy was already falling asleep on my shoulder. I made sure to flip them off with both hands as we sped away.

I settled back into my seat, able to breathe again - somewhat. I'd got Ivy away from them for now. But what good was this in the long term? Ivy wasn't going to stay away from Pete. Even if she did, Pete knew where she lived. And I hadn't really achieved much besides pissing him off even more.

"Harleen..." Ivy mumbled into my shoulder, making it vibrate. "Am I a -hic- bad girlfriend...?"

"Ivy, why would you think that?" I sighed.

"Pete-- Pete left... was h-he not having fun? Am I boring?"

"You're not boring Ivy." I knew there was no point telling her how toxic her relationship while she was on the verge of blacking out.

"B-but-- then-- am I ugly?"

"No, you're hot as fuck. You're out of his league."

"Maybe he thinks I -hic- I-I'm a slut... maybe I dressed up too much..."

"Ivy, you look great. Who cares what he thinks?"

"...Harley d-do you... do you think he's -hic- going to break up with me?"

Hopefully.

"I'm sure he won't..." I muttered, patting her shoulder. That would be too easy.

"I-I don’t know what I’d do without him H-harles -hic-" I noticed Ivy had begun to cry. "I… I think I'm in love with him…"

"Ivy, no!" I pushed Ivy upright and shook her by the shoulders. "NO. You are not in love with him, you hear me? You need to break up with that awful bastard." I slid a hand into my purse and pulled out the pepper spray, placing it in Ivy's palm and closing her fingers around it. "Next time you see that fucker, you spray him with this right in the eyes, you got that? Then kick him in the balls and tell him to fuck off and die. And if you can’t bring yourself to do it I’ll do it for you alright? Gladly."

Ivy's head dropped back onto my shoulder and I realized she was fully conked out. I stroked her hair, watching as the city zipped past us.

_Ivy... I don't know how to protect you anymore..._

* * *

Arthur stared out of the dirty subway window, watching as the train screeched to a stop in the station. He'd decided: this was officially the worst day of his life. Fired from HA-HAs. Just because he dropped a gun on the floor for a few seconds. Half the kids didn't even know what it was, why was it such a big deal? And if he hadn't had his sign stolen the other day maybe Hoit would've given him another chance.

Arthur loved that job. He didn't want to do anything else, he wouldn't find a job anything like it. Why was life so fucking unfair?

_Next stop, Ninth Avenue._

"...because she's a bitch that's why."

"I wish she hadn't chased away the brunette, she was totally up for it."

Most of the subway car had emptied out, and three young guys in suits had just jumped on. They sat down near the only other occupant; a woman in a brown coat.

"The clubs are crawling with whores like that, we can easily find another."

"Easy for you to say Pete. Why do women like you so much more than us?"

"Ha. Isn't that obvious?"

Arthur wondered what it would be like to be one of these guys. They clearly had money, they were probably what women found attractive and it sounded like they had a lot of luck with the opposite sex. Would Harley go for a guy like that?

"Hey, you want some fries?" One of them was now talking to the woman sitting alone. How did they have the confidence to do that?

"Hellooo! Talking to you!" The shortest one of the three waved the paper bag he was holding in front of her.

"No, thank you." She said quietly.

Arthur watched with fascination. Is that how you were supposed to flirt with a woman? Flirting was something Arthur had never really figured out.

"They're real good." The young man insisted.

"Don't ignore him. He's being _nice_ to you." The blond sat down next to his friend.

"Whoo!" They began to throw fries at her, laughing.

The woman turned to Arthur and gave him a look that he couldn't discern. Was she uncomfortable?

"Heh..."

Oh shit, not now.

Arthur felt the familiar, clawing feeling in his throat. He swallowed hard, his lips trembling, trying to squash it back down.

"Ha... ha ha ha!"

 _Stop_.

"Ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

Arthur clutched his throat. He knew all four of them were looking at him now.

"Is something funny asshole?"

_Please stop._

Arthur put a hand over his mouth, shaking his head.

The woman had had enough; she stood up and walked to the next subway car.

"Biiiiitch!"

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha!"

Arthur's throat was hurting and he struggled to breathe alongside the laughter.

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

And then the tallest one began to sing.

"Isn't it rich... Are we a pair?"

He was walking towards him.

Arthur shook his head, waving him away. If he could just stop laughing he could explain.

"Me here at last on the ground, you in mid-air..."

_"Send in the clowns..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo in case you haven't guessed by now, this is Pete, Jeffrey and Donny ;)


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise early update! I started writing this chapter and I just... couldn't stop haha. You'll see why. Also the length of this chapter got away from me a little but I'm okay with it.

Neither Ivy nor I were looking our best as we rolled into work the next morning. Ivy was hungover as shit. I was doing a little better on that front but since I'd stayed the night at Ivy's place without planning to I had to resort to wearing yesterday's clothes. Gross.

Neither of us were particularly talkative and we both made a beeline for the coffee machine as soon as we entered the serving area, failing to notice the crowd gathering around the TV at the other side of the room.

"Hey Ivy, Harley, come check this out." One of the chefs grunted.

This was definitely unusual - I didn't even know why we had a TV mounted there, Farrow always yelled at anyone who tried to watch it and there was never anything good on during the day anyway. But today, Farrow himself was staring up at the screen along with the chefs, bus boy and cleaning lady, seemingly mesmerized by what was currently on the news. I rubbed my eyes sleepily as I approached.

_"... and if you're just joining us, we're here this morning talking about the brutal triple murder that occurred on the subway last night."_

Triple murder? Oof. Seemed like I should keep my wits about me when I travel home. 

Why should I care, otherwise though? It wasn't unusual for this kind of thing to happen in Gotham City.

_"The victims, three innocent Wayne Enterprises employees identified as Pete Jones, Donny Smith and Jeffrey Palmer, were all shot dead on the 2:13 train from..."_

I blinked.

_What?_

There was no way. It was a different group of guys. Who also went out last night. And just weirdly had the same names. Right?

I whirled around, staring at the screen.

I shook my head. That was their picture. It was them. No way. No _fucking_ way.

_"...The young men were thought to be on their way back from a night out, when the horrifying attack occurred."_

_Is this... for real?_ This couldn't be real. I was dreaming. Because this was just too good to be true. I didn't get this fucking lucky.

_"The three were beloved by friends and coworkers alike. Thomas Wayne himself has spoken out about the killings..."_

I pinched myself.

This... this was actually happening? They were fucking _dead_? My mind swelled with frantic thoughts; they were dead. They were gone. This was a solution to everything. It was perfect. Hell, the thought of killing them myself had occurred to me more than once.

My heart was racing. I shouldn't feel this way; three human beings were _dead_. Even if I didn't like them I shouldn't be feeling... _happy_. What was wrong with me?

"What's going on...?" Ivy mumbled, appearing next to me.

I turned to her, eyes wide. "Oh god, Ivy... maybe this isn't the best way-- um--"

"Why is Pete on the news? And Jeffrey and Donny...?" I could see her eyes slide in slow motion down the screen to the words _TRIPLE SUBWAY MURDER_ in a blocky white font.

"Ivy..."

"N-no..."

"Ivy--"

"I-I have to call Pete..."

"Ivy... I don't think that's a good-- you won't get an answer..."

"HE WILL ANSWER! He's not..." Ivy sank to her knees, her face blank with horror, and I followed her, wrapping my arms around her just in time for her to collapse completely. There was a brief, uncomfortable silence as everybody watched us, and Ivy just stared ahead, frozen. And then, a loud wail filled the room.

"Please no! H-He can't be dead. NO!"

Gentle sobs quickly devolved into screams that wracked Ivy's body, her shoulders heaving with grief.

I knew there wasn't much I could say but I rocked her gently as she sobbed.

"Ivy, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry this happened."

"Fuck you Harley, don't lie! I know how you felt about him, you must be fucking over the moon!!" She screamed.

"Ivy, don't be silly." I soothed. "You're right, I didn't like him but that doesn't mean I'm happy he's dead."

But I was.

"It doesn't matter how I felt about them, they didn't deserve to die."

Yes they did.

But I wasn't about to tell Ivy that, especially not right now.

"Girls!" Farrow hissed at us, approaching suddenly. "You're scaring the customers!"

"Give her a minute, for fuck's sake!" I knew I shouldn't be swearing at my boss but Jesus, did he have a compassionate bone in his body? I calmed myself, putting on my sweet I-Need-Something-From-Farrow voice. "I mean... Sir. I don't think Ivy is well-equipped to handle work right now. I think she should go home for the day, would that be okay?" I made sure to bat my eyelashes and press my boobs together.

"How am I supposed to run a restaurant without any servers?" He boomed angrily.

"Ivy lives nearby, I can be back in twenty minutes--"

"Oh, I suppose I'll just tell the customers to wait twenty minutes while my waitresses deal with their _boyfriend drama..._ "

I nearly punched him. Boyfriend drama?! Ivy's boyfriend had just _died_.

"I'll call a friend to come pick her up."

"And who is going to serve everyone in her section?"

"I'll cover her section too, I'll do the best job you've ever seen, you won't even know she's gone, I swear."

Farrow narrowed his eyes. "Fine. But if I get even _one_ complaint, BOTH of you are getting your pay docked."

"Yes sir..." I muttered, making sure to flip him off behind his back as he walked back to his office.

Ivy was still crying loudly, her face bright red and her eyes puffy and sore. Gently, I pushed her hair out of her face. "Sweetie, I'm going to call Selina to come and get you okay? Just rest at home. Take some time to process this."

Ivy didn't give any indication that she had heard me, her body still shaking with sobs.

"Just give me a second." I slowly extracted my limbs from hers and stood up, and without me holding her Ivy just slowly collapsed to the floor, lying on her side in foetal position.

_Oh God..._ This was going to take some time. But it would be worth it in the end, I was sure of it. She would be so much happier. Right...?

Our mutual friend arrived quickly and sped off back to Ivy's home. I wished I could stay with her and comfort her, but in reality I knew it was pointless. She needed time and space to process this; probably anything I could say would just make things worse because Ivy would know I was lying.

As I returned to the serving area I felt an overwhelming feeling welling up inside me, and I realized with a jolt that it was... _glee_. I'd been suppressing it for Ivy's sake but now the sensation was just erupting out of me and I couldn't help grinning like an idiot. This was the best possible thing that could have happened. It was like my prayers had been answered.

I caught a glimpse of my beaming reflection in the toaster and felt sick; how could I be feeling this way? What was _wrong_ with me? Guilt crept into my mind. I shouldn't be _happy_. Look at what Ivy was going through, was I happy about that for God's sake? I should be disgusted with myself, practically celebrating a murder.

Still, though, as much as I tried to squash the feelings, I was in the best mood I'd probably ever been during work hours, despite having double the load of customers.

"Here's your milkshake, Sir; M'aam, your tea."

The man at the table was reading a newspaper, adorned with headlines of the murder. He put it down as he greedily snatched the milkshake.

"Are you done with this?" I asked, picking the paper up off the table.

"Actually I--"

"Thanks." I was already staring at the article with rabid interest as I left them to their drinks. My eyes skimmed past the overly-flattering babble about Pete, Jeffrey and Donny and how wonderful they were, straight to the description of the killer.

_The perpetrator, dubbed as the 'Killer Clown', was dressed in some form of a clown disguise - eyewitness opinions vary, some say the man had painted makeup, while others say it was a plastic mask. All descriptions cite a bright red smile and green hair. The man himself was described as tall, perhaps six foot or more with a skinny build and dark hair. Age reports ranged between twenty-two and forty-seven, perhaps skewed by the unusual disguise. Currently Gotham PD has narrowed this down slightly; the killer is currently suspected to be in his mid-to-late thirties. The driver of the train, Mr Abe Phillips, was..._

I read the paragraph again. Tall with dark hair, mid-thirties. I couldn't help but picture the killer and in my mind he looked... handsome. Like a sexy guardian angel.

Oh God, where was my mind going?! _Harley, stop being a fucking psycho._

But I read the description again.

And then again.

I was staring so intently at it that I almost walked into a customer.

"Harley."

"Oh--! Sorry Arthur, I didn't see you there. I was just reading..." I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. "...never mind. Can I get you a coffee--- um... do you want to sit down?"

Normally Arthur made his way straight to his usual table but he was just standing in front of me, near the entrance.

"No. You finish at 8 today?" Arthur had his hands in his pockets and was looking down at me with an expression I coudn't discern - all I could tell was that it was... intense.

"I... yes--"

"Meet me out front when your shift is done."

"O-oh... um, ok..." I was a little taken aback by his directness. He'd even begun walking away before I replied and I realized he hadn't really asked a question; he was telling me this like I had no choice. Arthur had never been this... assertive before, and for some reason it dazed me. I swallowed and bit my lip, staring after him as he left the building.

* * *

I was absolutely exhausted when I finished up work that evening. For one, handling double the customers had me running around like a lunatic, but also, my mind had been absolutely _racing_ with thoughts of the murder, and thought of what Arthur could want.

The way he'd asked had been so serious and commanding, I wondered if something was wrong. It was so unusual. I also couldn't help but think about how Ivy had teased me about Arthur spanking me... it seemed like a much more realistic idea with this demeanor. The image kept popping into my head and it made me go bright red while I was trying to list the specials, confusing some customers considerably.

Arthur was waiting outside as I locked up and I found myself feeling weirdly nervous; a feeling I'd never experienced around him. I swallowed as he approached me.

"Hi Arthur. So... um... what's up?"

"I wanted to walk you home."

"Oh-- okay..." There it was again. He didn't ask to walk me home; apparently it was happening whether I liked it or not. I definitely wasn't _unhappy_ with the idea of having an escort this late; I was also pretty intrigued to find out more about this sudden personality change that Arthur was experiencing.

We made small talk for a little while as we walked to the subway, and I began to loosen up again. He still seemed like Arthur, just a little more confident. And there was nothing wrong with that, right? Maybe he'd taken an improv class or something.

"It’s nice to have you with me Arthur, I know it’s not really safe for me to go home alone after dark. Especially on the subway now, I guess... did you hear about the murders?"

"Yes..." He replied. "It's horrible."

"Yeah, awful..." I mumbled.

There was a brief silence as I thought about how, really, it wasn't awful at all. It was great. And before I knew it I was starting to voice my thoughts. "I don’t know, maybe I’m being dumb but I…" I ran a hand through my hair. "You’ll probably think I’m an idiot for saying this but--" I paused. Why was I telling him this? He was going to think I was a lunatic.

"What?"

"..." The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. "I just... for some reason I feel safer after the murders."

"Safer?"

"I know I sound crazy! It’s just-- so... I knew the guys who got murdered. And they were probably the biggest assholes I’ve ever met. Just _complete_ pricks, one of them was abusive to my friend and-- anyway that’s another story but… I just can’t help feeling like they deserved it, you know? Whoever killed them saw how awful they were and just decided the world would be better without them… and..." I looked to the side and realized Arthur was no longer next to me. Turning around I saw that he had stopped several feet back and I blushed. He thought I was insane. Clearly I shouldn't be voicing these psycho thoughts, someone was going to get me carted off to Arkham. Shit, what was it about Arthur that made me feel like I could just say anything? I backpedaled fast. "I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean-- god I sound crazy don’t I? I-I’m not trying to say murder is okay or anything I- I just--"

"You don't sound crazy."

"W-what?"

"I think you might be right."

I looked up at him, my eyes widening. Was he just making fun of me? Or did he really mean it? Something about his expression made me believe him and I couldn't help but smile.

The subway trip went faster than usual; perhaps it was because I had somebody to talk to rather than spending the whole time wading through my thoughts. I didn't really like being alone in my own head, my mind had a habit of going to dark places.

The topic had turned back to the murders.

"Your friend- you mentioned... you said they were abusive to her?"

I nodded. "He was her boyfriend... well, sort of... they broke up and got back together every couple of weeks so it was hard to keep track. He also beat her…" I clenched my fists, remembering everything Pete has said the previous night.

"He sounds awful."

"He was." I stared at my hands. "...I... I know it sounds terrible... but... I’m so glad he’s dead." For some reason I felt okay admitting this to Arthur; I felt like he wouldn't judge me for it. It felt good to get the words out too; the thought had been bouncing off the walls of my mind constantly since the morning and I felt horrible for thinking it, but it was just true.

"How is your friend doing now?"

"She's obviously devastated but... she'll get over it. I know she will. And she'll be happier without him fucking her over all the time."

We sat in silence for a little while before Arthur spoke once more.

"You seem like a good friend. She’s lucky to have you."

I turned to look at him and he seemed so sincere that I couldn't help a smile spread over my face. "Thanks Arthur."

_Church Avenue, now arriving_

"Oh, this is our stop."

We walked quietly to our Sunshine Estates, and headed up to the third floor, stopping as we reached Arthur's apartment. It suddenly hit me how desperately I needed some sleep.

"Anyway, thanks for walking me home, Arthur, I--"

Before I could finish, Arthur took hold of my shoulders and pulled me inside his apartment. My back hit the wall and I saw him kick the door closed without letting go of me for even a second.

It all happened so fast that I'd barely opened my mouth to speak when Arthur kissed me.

It was a fierce, desperate kiss, full of need and longing, as though he'd been waiting his entire life to kiss me here, just like this. He pressed his body against mine and it was as if he wanted every part of us to touch.

My eyes widened in shock, confusion... excitement?

What the hell was happening? _Why_ was this happening? One thing was for certain; I was no longer sleepy. It was like someone had just tazered me; I was more awake than I'd ever been.

"Mmph..." I tried to speak, but Arthur's mouth was still clamped onto mine and his eyes were closed. "Mmh... mm-rthur..."

I pushed against him with both hands, adrenaline ripping through me like I'd just been chased by a wild animal. With some reluctance he broke the kiss, looking down at my hands as if he wanted to will them out of existence. Still, I held my palms against his chest to keep his lips away, breathing heavily.

"A-Arthur I-- j-just... hang on a second..."

I couldn't seem to collect myself; so many questions were spinning through my head, but at the same time my mind kept jumping back to the feeling of his lips on mine.

I closed my eyes, willing the thoughts away. _Earth to Harley._

"Arthur...what... w-what are you doing?" I mumbled eventually.

Arthur stared at me blankly.

"What do you think I'm doing?"

Okay, dumb question.

"B-but... but why? What makes you think that this is on any level appropriate...? I-- why would you think--"

I didn't know how to articulate how out of left field this was. I wasn't crazy right? Should I have expected this? Me and Arthur? He had to be double my age. I know Ivy had teased me about it but that was just a _joke_ , she didn't really think that we'd...

"Arthur--"

"I just think we’re at the point in our relationship that--"

"Relationship?" I let out an exasperated mix of a sigh and a gasp. "I-- Arthur _what_ relationship? We barely know each other!" I noticed he was inching towards me again, regardless of how firmly I pushed against him.

Arthur reached up and gently pushed my hair behind my ear. "But we’ve been on so many dates at this point--"

"Dates? Arthur what dates?" I forced his hand away. There was no way I could've misinterpreted this so badly. I would've remembered _dates_. Plural!

"At the cafe." And he said it so simply and plainly, as if it was obvious, as if I was stupid for not knowing about our cafe dates. So much so that I doubted myself for a second. Was that the impression I'd given? Had I been leading him on? Had I been leading _myself_ on? Was I that misinformed about what a relationship was?

"B-But-- what? Arthur I work there. It’s just work." His hand was reaching for my face once again and I wrapped my fingers around his, gently but firmly moving them away. "Arthur... you’re sweet and I enjoy our chats but... I think you’re misinterpreting things. I- I’m sorry if I confused you or made you think otherwise but--"

Arthur didn't seem to be listening to me anymore. He twisted free of my grip and was able to wrap a single hand around both my wrists, which he then held to the side, making it impossible to interfere.

"Arthur! Stop this. Please, I don't want things to be awkward between us. I really like your company, and--"

His free hand reappeared at my jaw, sliding under, his thumb resting on my cheek.

I looked away from him and my voice was quieter. "Arthur... I'm serious. This is too weird... we're not... you and I-- we don't-- it wouldn't work!" There was a hint of my desperation in my voice; if we stopped now, there was a chance we could pretend this never happened. "Arthur, listen to me."

"I am listening." He pulled my head up, towards him so I couldn't avoid his gaze. "But you're wrong." His face was inches from mine and I was staring into his eyes. They were a deep, sparkling green and they sucked me in so much so that I only vaguely noticed that his entire weight was pressing into me, crushing me against the wall.

"Arthur..." I insisted. "Please don't..."

He was so close to me all of a sudden. My coherent thoughts were floating away and I struggled to keep a hold on them.

"This is... Arthur come on... you’re too old for me... I... we're neighbors..."

He ran a rough thumb over my lip and a shiver shot down my spine.

"Arthur... this doesn't make any sense..." My voice was barely a whisper as he moved closer still.

I felt his breath skim across my lips seconds before he kissed me again and I realized I had been waiting for it, _wanting_ it; the ashy taste of tobacco mixed with something slightly sweet, the firm, uncompromising force of his mouth pressing down on mine and the way he held me against him, as if he wasn't ever going to let go. He released my wrists and his arm dropped to my waist, hooking around it and pulling me into him so that my back arched and I could feel his hipbones cutting into my stomach. His other hand had moved to the back of my head, cupping it in his palm and holding me in place so I couldn't pull away again. But he needn't have, for I was clinging onto him just as desperately and my doubts dissolved into desire as I began to kiss him back just as hard. My fingers curled into his jacket and my tongue traced his lips eagerly, begging for entrance. His hands had twisted into my hair and he was pulling tight, sending sweet jolts of pain and pleasure straight to my core.

At some point we almost lost our balance, knocking a vase off the old credenza next to us but neither of us seemed to care; we paused for only milliseconds, very occasionally, to come up for air. In the back of my mind I felt like I should stop him; it seemed so wrong, so dirty, like I shouldn't be doing it, like there was some rule saying this couldn't happen. He was old enough to be my father for christ's sake. But it was maybe the wrongness that seemed to just drive my hunger even more and made me tingle with anticipation. Whatever part of me controlled logic and reason had been assassinated and replaced entirely with lust.

His lips left mine and I whimpered, feeling totally lost without his breath intermingling with mine, but then his mouth was on my neck, kissing and sucking, and I gasped in ecstasy. A moan escaped me, and I couldn't remember the last time I had moaned in the presence of a man, hell, I didn't think I'd ever been this turned on by anybody.

Arthur pushed my feet apart and his knee was suddenly between my legs, pressing up, making me shudder with excitement and impatience. I wanted to feel more of him, I just wanted to feel every part of him. His hands were on my hips again but all of a sudden there wasn't fabric between us; my breath came in short gasps as he slid his fingertips under the hem of my shirt and up my stomach.

I began to fumble with the buttons on his vest; I wanted to feel him closer too, skin against skin. He mirrored my action, pulling on my shirt buttons. I wanted to just rip my blouse down the front so it wouldn't take so long but he was pretty efficient regardless, returning his hands to sit against my abs once my shirt hung open. I took a little longer with the multiple layers in my way but soon I was staring down at his bare chest. I ran my fingers down his torso, savoring the feeling of his hot skin.

Arthur jerked me up towards him, pushing our stomachs together and allowing him to bring his mouth back to my neck, which he kissed firmly, making a trail down to my collarbone.

"Arthur..." I breathed. "I...I want you so bad..."

There was a creak, then a cough from nearby.

It was as though all my senses flooded back into my head at once and it nearly knocked me off my feet. The voice in my head telling me to stop, which had been silenced by the voices of lust and desire, was suddenly the loudest, screaming in my ear. I froze.

"Arthur... y-your mother is in the next room?"

"She's asleep."

He kissed me again as if to reassure me, and God, it nearly worked. I whimpered, feeling him bite down on my bottom lip and slide his hands up to the clasp of my bra.

"Arthur... I- I'm not sure if we should do this... I..."

I wished I could turn off the logic and just give in to my baser emotions, the voice inside my head that was just screaming at me to let him to fuck me right here up against the wall. He was fumbling with the fastenings at the small of my back and my hips were pressed into his, but it was as though my libido was slowly draining out of me, head to toe.

"Arthur ... I can't..."

"Shh, Harley, it's okay..."

My bra finally snapped open and I panicked, shoving him away. "N-No!"

I held my shirt to my chest, suddenly feeling the need to cover my modesty.

"I-I'm sorry Arthur... I... I have to go."

And I dashed out of his apartment and to my own, slamming the door behind me before sinking slowly to the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

I didn't sleep a wink that night. The whole scene kept replaying _over_ and _over_ in my head, from the moment we reached Arthur's apartment to the moment I ran back to my own. I tried to convince myself I'd hallucinated the whole thing but I could still feel the tender area on my neck where he'd bit me and one of the buttons of my shirt was missing. It just didn't make any sense. Me and Arthur...? Should I have seen it coming? Why did it feel so right and so wrong at the same time?

I had a lot to think about, a lot I should probably talk to Arthur about. So naturally I did the mature thing: I ran.

I needed to look after Ivy. I wasn't avoiding anything. I needed to be there to support my friend. That was what I kept telling myself as I made my way to her place after sneaking out of my apartment the next morning. Sure, it meant I wouldn't face Arthur all weekend, but Ivy was going through a huge amount of grief, I would be a terrible friend if I left her alone.

Ivy was curled up on the couch, surrounded by tissues and snack packaging. I joined her under the quilt she was hugging, glad to just relax and try and forget everything that was troubling me. The TV blared in front of us.

_"Next up, it's the news at noon where we'll be talking to some eyewitnesses of the brutal subway murder that occurred last week--"_

I quickly changed the channel, glancing sideways at Ivy. Obviously this was the last thing she would want to see but I _really_ wanted to watch it. I'd been clinging to any scrap of information, desperate to find out more about the killer. Who was he? What were his motivations? What did he look like?

"Look - a Charlie's Angels marathon. Let's watch." I settled back into the couch, trying to focus. I really needed to stop dwelling on this killer clown stuff.

We were halfway into the sixth episode in a row when there was a knock on the door.

I glanced at Ivy. "Are you expecting someone?"

"No..." She pulled herself off the couch and to the door.

"Harley... oh my god, look." Ivy returned five minutes later, carrying a huge cardboard box stuffed with knick-knacks.

"What is it?"

"It's some of Pete's stuff..." Ivy began to pull things out of the box. "That was Pete's mother at the door... she said... she said I should have this stuff. It's love letters and photos and gifts we gave each other..."

 _Oh brother._ I stifled a groan. I was enjoying silently watching TV and not talking about the dead douchebag.

"Look, it's the teddy bear I gave him... and the couple ring... ohh we won these at the carnival last year!"

_So much tacky crap._

She pulled out some papers.

"Photos of us..."

She was beginning to tear up.

"This is the first love letter I sent him... " She pulled more paper out of an envelope, unfolding it. "It was so sappy, but..." She paused. "Wait..."

I watched her brow crinkle as she scanned the note.

"This isn't from me... I..."

She pulled out a photo. It was a saucy photo and it _definitely_ wasn't Ivy.

"T-This is dated just after our one year anniversary..."

She pulled out another stack of envelopes, suddenly seeming distraught. "This isn't... who is..." She was pulling out photo after photo; there had to be at least fifteen different girls. "W-who are all these SLUTS?" She shouted, tears splashing down her front. Her body was shaking and she dropped half of the letters on the floor. "T-this... he says girlfriend... this one too... I... he was dating other girls this late in our relationship?"

"Didn't see that one coming." I muttered, before I could stop myself.

Ivy froze.

"What did you say?"

I couldn't hold my tongue any longer. "Come on Ivy, why are you so fucking surprised? How many times do I have to tell you he's trash before you believe me?"

_SLAP_

I recoiled slightly, seeing stars. "Ow. Ivy--"

_SLAP_

Ok, I know Ivy was going through some shit, but she slapped me _twice_. It just kinda activated my psycho bitch mode; I couldn't really control it.

I slapped her back. A _lot_ harder. Hard enough that she stumbled back several steps and nearly fell over. She grasped her reddening cheek, breathing heavily.

"Stop trying to make your fuck-ups about me." I spat. "You KNOW he was a dick but you don't want to admit it so you're trying to convince yourself _I'm_ the bad guy here. HE was the bad guy! You're twenty two fucking years old Ivy, figure it out!"

"ARRRHGH!" Ivy suddenly launched herself at me and I could see her long, pointed nails approaching my face fast - so it was out of self defense that I shoved her.

...Ok fine, not _entirely_ self defense.

"IVY! Calm the fuck down! What is your problem?!" I shrieked.

"What is my _problem_?! Are you kidding? You're calling my boyfriend trash! My DEAD boyfriend!"

"Perhaps because he IS trash! He's always been trash! He was trash when he was alive and he's still trash now he's dead! Dead trash!"

I could tell Ivy wanted to murder me but I didn't really care. I was done, _so_ done. Done with trying to clean up after her terrible life choices. She ran at me again and I grabbed her shoulders, holding her arms length away.

"You just want me to be miserable!" She screeched. "You're supposed to be my best fucking friend!"

"MISERABLE?! Do you know how much fucking work I put into making you happy?! You know how exhausting it is for me because it seems like you're so determined to make _yourself_ miserable?! Can't you fucking pick a boyfriend who treats you with a SCRAP of decency?"

"Well at least I HAVE boyfriends! You cant even get your fucking PARENTS to love you let alone a man!"

"Maybe that's because I don't just fuck anyone with a dick and a fucking visa credit card!"

"At least I manage to maintain a relationship for more than two weeks! Most of your guys run for the fucking HILLS as soon as they get to know you!"  
"That's because I have a fucking BACKBONE and don't let them cheat on me fifteen fucking times! "  
"At least I've had sex with more than one fucking guy my entire life!"   
"At least I havent slept with the WHOLE OF FUCKING GOTHAM! "

"YOU WERE ALWAYS JEALOUS OF ME!" Ivy was ugly crying at this point; fat, angry tears slid down her face and her cheeks glowed red. "YOU WERE JEALOUS THAT BOYS LIKED ME MORE THAN YOU! I BET YOU DIDN'T REALLY HATE PETE, YOU WANTED HIM AND YOU WERE TRYING TO CONVINCE ME TO DUMP HIM SO YOU COULD HAVE HIM FOR YOURSELF!"

"ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? NEWS FLASH IVY! PETE DIDN'T WANT YOU EITHER! HE DIDN'T LEAVE THAT NIGHT! HE WAS STILL THERE WITH HIS TONGUE DOWN THE THROAT OF SOME WHORE! I WAS JUST TRYING TO GET YOU OUT OF THERE BECAUSE HE FUCKING CHEATED ON YOU AGAIN AND I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO GO THROUGH THAT AGAIN!"

"I... h-he did?" Ivy retracted suddenly, but I was too far into my outburst and I didn't notice.

"AND NOT ONLY THAT, HE FUCKING HIT ME WHEN I TRIED TO DEFEND YOU!" I yelled. "WONDERING WHY MY LIP IS ALL FUCKED UP? NO, YOU DON'T CARE, BECAUSE IT'S NOT ABOUT YOU! WELL YOUR PRECIOUS BOYFRIEND DID IT, RIGHT AFTER HE TRIED TO RAPE ME!"

"He... what?" Ivy squeaked.

"AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON--"

I stopped, realizing that Ivy had suddenly exited rage mode and was looking at me in complete despair, her face crumpling. I took a few deep breaths, attempting to calm myself down.

"P-Pete... h-he hit you? H-he tried to...?" Ivy sank into a crouch, cradling her head in her hands. "Oh my god... I..."

"Ivy..."

"This... this is all my fault... I-I... I'm so sorry Harley..." A fresh wave of sobs shook her frame. "I'm so sorry!"

"Oh... sweetie..." My anger evaporated and I plopped my butt on the floor next to her. "Ives _I'm_ sorry... I wasn't planning to tell you that at all, let alone scream it in your face."

Ivy cried harder. "H-Harley I had no idea... I never wanted--"

"Hey, it's cool. I took care of it. I kicked him in the balls so hard he'd probably be shooting blanks for weeks." I grimaced. _If he wasn't dead I guess._

"No Harley, it's _not_ cool! I'm the worst fucking friend in the world! I-I can't believe I dragged you into this, all because I'm such a fucking coward!"

"Sweetheart, come here. You're not a bad friend."

"I am! I'm disgusting! You should hate me!"

I wrapped my arms around her, sighing. "It's not your fault. It's men. They make us crazy."

I cradled Ivy in my arms, rocking her gently and we sat in silence as the anger drained out of us until eventually, Ivy spoke once more.

"I... I was scared of him."

"Scared of Pete?"

Ivy looked down before slowly nodding. "Terrified... I... r-remember the second time he cheated on me? I wanted to break up with him then, I was done. I went over to his place to end it and... he got really angry... and... turned on the stove and..."

She grabbed her wrist reflexively and I remembered the day she'd come in with an awful burn on her forearm, claiming it was a cake-baking accident. I clenched my fists.

"He tried to burn me more than once but I got away and I was hiding in the closet... I was so fucking scared... I thought... I thought he was going to kill me... but then he apologized and cried and said it would never happen again..."

"Oh Ivy..."

"I forced myself to pretend it never happened... a-and... and I convinced myself it was my fault anyway. I thought if he was so angry it had to be my fault somehow and I- I just wanted to make him happy. He was so nice when he wasn't angry with me... it was hard to believe he was even the same person."

Ivy was twisting her fingers together. I wanted to say something but the words were caught in my throat and I felt sick.

"I-I think... somehow I just convinced myself I felt so desperate to make him happy was because I loved him, not because I was scared. But I knew deep down I was, I was fucking terrified of him and I wanted to leave him... I..."

I closed my eyes, sighing. The world really was a better place now that he was dead.

"You know what we should do?" I stood up suddenly.

Ivy wiped her eyes. "What?"

"Burn his fucking stuff."

We made it like a weird ritual. We found some kind of barrel-slash-garbage can thing in an alley near Ivy's apartment, and dumped everything in there. I threw in some vodka too and Ivy was a little alarmed at the fireball when she dropped the match inside, but it looked cool. The letters and photos burned up quickly but anything made of plastic slowly seared and melted and it was very therapeutic to watch; Ivy seemed calmed by it, as if we were destroying all the bad memories.

I know it wasn't like everything was suddenly resolved; Ivy still had a long way to go in terms of getting over everything that had happened, but just for that weekend we seemed to be able to push it out of our minds, and it was like old times. We baked some cupcakes, looked at clothing magazines and watched a marathon of movies - whatever happened to be on TV - commenting on all the cute actors. I realized how much I'd missed this.

We were halfway through _Empire Strikes Back_ , discussing the pros and cons of Mark Hamil's backside, when the conversation took a turn towards my love life.

"Nope, it's perfect, you can't convince me otherwise. Luke is such a hottie." Ivy made a rawr gesture with her hand.

"Come on, what about Han Solo? He has the better butt _and_ is just the best looking one in general."

"Ooh you really do like older guys, don't you?" Ivy snickered at me.

"He's not old! Just because he's not as baby faced as _Luke_ \--"

"Back to the Future is on after this, are you gonna tell me you have the hots for Doc?"

"Of course not!" I snapped, more aggressively than I meant to.

Ivy looked at me, eyebrows raised. "Geez Harles, I was kidding. What's got you so worked up?"

I looked at the ground.

"Oh my god." Ivy sat up straight, staring at me.

"What?"

"Oh no way... I wasn't being _that_ serious before but... oh my god."

"Ivy, what?"

A smirk crept onto her face. "...Something happened with that neighbor of yours didn't it?"

"W-what? Don't be ridiculous!" I folded my arms dismissively, but I could _feel_ the flush creeping up my face.

"Oh the hell it didn't, you can't even look at me!" She sat forward eagerly. "What happened?! Tell me, tell me! Did you guys do it?"

"Ivy, what are you twelve? Of course we didn't ' _do it_ '."

"Is that what's bothering you then? You _wanted_ to but it didn't happen?"

I covered my face with my hands. "Ugh-- no..."

"Come ooon Harley you haven't been properly interested in a guy in like six years, give me something! Tell me what happened!"

I didn't really want to tell her, but I was enjoying this streak of not talking about Pete. "I... well... he walked me home..."

"And then?!"

"Um... he just... he pulled me into his apartment and... he kissed me."

"I knew it!! I knew you were into him!" Ivy clapped her hands in excitement. "So? What’s the problem?"

"I- It was just so unexpected! He kissed _me_... I just kinda stood there... I- I never thought of him that way--"

"Pfft, you liar, you said he was mysterious. Mysterious is just code for sexy."

"That’s not true--! I-- Look it doesn't matter anyway, there's no way it's happening again. There’s an age gap… and… and--"

"Did you like it?"

"What?"

"When he kissed you, did you like it?"

I felt like my cheeks were going to set alight as I turned an even deeper shade of red and Ivy raised her eyebrows once more. "Wow, I’ll take that as a resounding yes. Try not to cream your panties on the floor. Do you know how old he is?"

"I don't know... he could be in his thirties?"

"Harles, you're forgetting that he comes into the cafe everyday. I see him all the time too - though I guess I don't cosy up as close to him as you do--"

"We don't _cosy up_ \--"

"My point is, there's no way that guy is younger than 39."

I shoved my face into one of the couch cushions. "Ugh I know, you're right! He's almost double my age! Why am I so fucking weird?! Why can't be attracted to someone _normal_?"

"Hey, on the bright side, he can adopt you at the same time and you can get a boyfriend and the father figure you always wanted." She giggled.

I couldn't help but laugh, despite trying to appear annoyed. "You're not helping Ives." I covered my face with my hands. "Fucckkk this is so messed up..."

"Oh come on Harley, I'm just teasing. You're being too uptight about this - it's not like you're the first girl in the world to be attracted to an older man. Honestly I'm thinking you've got the right idea - apparently men don't reach their full maturity until the age of 40."

"That would explain a lot." I mumbled.

"Buut I think you should be more worried about the fact that he's just as poor as you are, and seems to have no prospects whatsoever."

"What? I don't care about his _money_... "

"Well you should! How is he gonna provide for you? And your family?"

"F-family?! Woah Ivy, I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself here..."

"You're right, I should wait until the relationship has lasted more than a month first."

"Ivy, there _is_ no relationship!"

"Fine, then why don't you just casually fuck him?"

"I-I don't want--"

"You want something more serious?"

"Yes! I-- No! Well... Maybe... No! Stop confusing me! Ugh fuck! I don't know what I want!"

"Wow Harles, I've never seen you get this worked up. You must be _really_ into him."

"Can we stop talking about this now?" I begged.

"Sure sweetheart, but you're gonna have to figure out how you feel at some point. I suspect he'll want to know."

"I know..."

I knew Ivy was right. I'd ran out on him right before we were at the point of fucking right in his hallway - he was going to want talk about this.

And honestly I did too... I wanted to know what he wanted. Did he just want my body or was it something more? Would he love me? Take care of me?

I blocked the thoughts out, trying to focus on the movie once more. I knew I needed to address this; but I wanted to put it off for longer. Right then it was just me and Ivy hanging out; our problems could wait.

I was somewhat terrified going into work on Monday morning. I knew Arthur was going to come in, and I was going to talk things through with him. I was ready though; I'd been thinking about it all night, what I was going to say to him and how. I was definitely ready.

I quickly changed my tune when he showed up, first thing in the morning.

"Ivy?" I hurried into the serving area. "Ivy!"

"Harles?"

"I need you to cover my section... er... just one specific table."

Ivy craned her neck. "Ah. Arthur is here?"

I pulled her away. "Stop looking! Yes, just Arthur's table..."

"I thought you decided you were going to talk to him about it?"

"Um... I did but... I changed my mind. Just now."

"Harles."

"Ivy please."

Ivy shrugged. "Ok Harles, but you're going to have to face him eventually."

"I know..."

Okay so I was chickening out. Cut me some slack, okay?! This was totally new territory for me and I didn't know how to deal. It was easier just... not to. I didn't even know what I wanted, as much as I tried to convince myself I did. Tell him it was a mistake, and it was over: that was the plan. Why was that so hard?!

I couldn't help glancing over as Ivy served him. He ordered a coffee, as usual. He was saying something else but I couldn't make it out... what was he saying? Was he asking Ivy where I was? His eyes suddenly flicked over to mine and I jumped, blushing and pretending to be busy clearing plates.

It was nearly the end of the day, and I was hauling garbage out back to the dumpster. I paused after throwing the bags inside, leaning against the brick of the small alley. So much had happened in just five days, and I felt like I hadn't had time to catch my breath. How was a person supposed to deal with all this shit at once?

"Harley."

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Arthur! Jesus, you scared me half to death..." It wasn't until I'd gotten over the shock that I fully realized who I was talking to. "Um... you're not allowed to be back here. This is private property."

"I just wanted to talk to you for a minute--"

"I'm sorry, I'm working. I can't talk right now." I moved to leave, but Arthur stood in front of me, blocking my exit.

"Harley, wait."

"What, Arthur?" I stared to the left of him; for some reason I didn't have the guts to look him in the eye. Why did I feel so goddamn awkward?

"I just... I wanted to see you. And--"

"You're seeing me." I interrupted him. "Now I have to go." I knew I was being immature, but I honestly didn't know what else to do. Part of my mind was just screaming at me to throw myself at him and kiss him and I was using most of my brain power fighting against it.

An arm appeared in my path as Arthur put a hand against the wall in front of me. I turned around, attempting to dodge around the other side of him but he blocked me in with his other palm against the brick.

"Arthur, move." I mumbled, without much authority in my voice. The way he was caging me in with his arms and looming over me made me feel so small and powerless; I was completely surrounded.

"Why are you avoiding me?" He asked.

I could feel the warmth emanating off him and my mind flashed back to the moment we kissed. The feel of his lips against mine and his body pressed up against me... the way he held my head firmly in place and kissed me hard and deep... the moment our bare torsos touched...

_Fuck. Harley stop._

"I'm not... avoiding you, I- I've just been busy..." I knew I wasn't convincing either of us.

He leaned closer. "I wanted to... we need to finish what we started."

My face grew hot and I felt a sudden hunger within me; I knew if he tried to kiss me again I wouldn't be able to resist and it would be all over. I couldn't let that happen. With a deep breath, I prepared myself and looked him straight in the eye.

"Arthur, I'm sorry. I just... me and you. I don't think it would work out. I know things happened the other day but... it was just the heat of the moment. It's not going to happen again."

His eyes were so green. They bored into my soul as he stared down at me and my words seemed to be stabbing him in the heart. His brow crinkled into a confused frown and he reached a hand out towards my face.

"Harley-"

In that moment I nearly broke; I wanted to feel his hand on my jaw again, his thumb on my lip, his fingers tangling into my hair. I wanted to press against him and lose myself in his kiss.

"Stop." I pushed his hand away. I managed to hang onto my resolve by the skin of my teeth; one more second and I would've been making out with him up against the dumpster. "I'm leaving. I'm sorry Arthur."

"Harley wait--"

"I can't. Goodbye Arthur."

I was walking away when I heard a muffled snort.

"Ha..." Arthur was beginning to laugh. "Har-- ha... ha ha... ley..." It was painful, involuntary laughter "Ha... ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha! HA HA HA HA HA HA!"

I paused, turning to look at him once more. I'd only seen Arthur afflicted by his laugh once before and at the time I'd been more worried about the idea that he was laughing at me. This was the first time I saw it and knew what was going on, and it hurt to watch him struggle so hard with it. He was doubled over, leaning against the dumpster clutching his stomach, spittle flying out of his mouth.

I bit my lip. I didn't want to leave him like this.

_Fuck..._

He shook his head as I approached, waving me away as he stuffed his other arm into his mouth, seemingly trying to repress it.

I reached up and gently pulled his arm back, and as a result his laughter grew in volume. "Arthur... it's okay." I said quietly, wrapping my hand around his and leaning against his chest. The laughter continued to consume him and I could feel his torso heaving in and out with the violent guffaws, but I squeezed his hand tight and helped him wait it out.

And as I held him I knew I was being a dick about this whole situation. It wasn't time to be childish; I had to face this.

As his laughter died down I looked up at him once more, biting my lip. "Arthur... look... I'm sorry, I know it's not really an answer but I just... I need some time okay? A lot has happened this past week and I just... I need time to digest it."

He looked down at me with a frown. "What if I want you now? What if... I don't want to wait?"

"I'm sorry, Arthur... I need you to. Please." I let go of his hand, turning away once more.

"Harley--"

"Goodbye Arthur." I didn't look back as I spoke and there was a level of finality in my voice. As I walked away my hand tingled from our interaction. Half of me was happy to be able to get out of there, but I knew it was only a scrap of resolve that was stopping me from throwing myself back at him. I quickened my pace, returning to the cafe before I could change my mind.

Why did Arthur want this so much? What was it about me that he found so special? It was a new feeling to me and it felt _good_ that somebody desired me so intensely. I felt like I'd never been wanted by anybody my entire life; not by my parents, who abandoned me as soon as physically possible, not by the foster families who paraded in and out of the foster home picking _anybody_ but me, and not by the system, who threw me out as soon as I was legally and adult. Nobody chose Harley.

But Arthur did.

I knew Arthur wanted me, _all_ of me, and he wanted it so badly.

And I wanted to give it to him.


	9. Chapter 9

I still had to see Arthur at the cafe everyday. He didn't corner me while I was taking the garbage out again, but he was always there, silently watching. Ok _fine_ , maybe I'm not being fair, I'm making him sound like a stalker - he'd said he was a regular at the cafe before we met, so I guess he was just going about his routine as normal. He was always polite, he didn't try to harass me or even talk to me besides saying hello and telling me his order, but I was getting so in my own head about it I felt like he was constantly sitting on my shoulder, yelling in my ear to make a decision and fuck him already. Well, at least that was the 'devil Arthur' voice. The _angel_ Arthur voice would demand that I profess my love for him and get married and have babies. God, how did this go from zero to one hundred so quick? Had these thoughts been stewing below the surface all along or did they just begin when he kissed me? Maybe this was all just because I hadn't gotten laid in a while.

Anyway, naturally, I wasn't cool with experiencing this level of thirst and confusion because I prefer to run away from my feelings like a mature adult, so I tried to limit our interactions. It seemed silly to keep asking Ivy to cover my section so I did serve him each time, but I rarely made eye contact. I wished I didn't have to avoid him to such an extent though; I _missed_ having full conversations with him. I missed telling him about my day, and hearing his stupid inappropriate jokes. God, I _knew_ this was going to happen, why did we have to go there? Now we couldn't go back to normal because every time I looked at him my mind would fill with unwanted fantasies of him fucking me up against the wall of my apartment, or lying next to me in bed while I curled my naked body up against his. Even in my dreams I wasn't safe; more than once I had woken up with a cold sweat dripping down my face from unintended arousal following a dream where Arthur was pushing me over the kitchen table, holding me down and fucking me silly.

Ivy kept bullying me into giving me new information even though I insisted there was none, so against my better judgment I told him about our alleyway encounter.

"What and after that you just left?"

"Yeah..."

Ivy seemed exasperated for some reason. "Harles, it's so obvious you like him, why don't you just go with it?"

I shook my head. "I just... it doesn't feel right. I don't know Ives... you know what I'm like with relationships and I don't want to end up hurting him."

"That doesn't normally bother you, why does it now?"

"I..."

"Because you care about him?"

"I... no... well..."

"You're scared to hurt him because you think things could get more serious?"

"I... t-that's not how I would put it... I barely know him..."

"Wow... you _loooooove_ him don't you?."

"Ivy, if you're going to be a child I'm going back to work."

"Okay, I'll just wait a year until you're married with a kid on the way to tell you I told you so!" She called after me.

"I'm not listening!" I shouted back, shaking the thoughts out of my head.

"Hiya! Welcome to the Gotham Griddle, can I take your order?"

"Yeah I want the chocolate chip pancakes."

"Omelette for me."

I looked up at the customers for the first time after jotting down their order. They were two men who looked mid to late twenties. They were mostly inconspicuous and normally I wouldn't have looked twice; however, these men in particular peaked my interest, due to the plastic, clown shaped masks they were both sporting. They'd taken them off to eat and one of them had it perched on his head, and the other, hanging around his neck, but it was still clear to me what they meant.

My curiosity got the better of me. "Excuse me... can I ask - what are those masks you have?"

The guy on the left looked at me, considering my question. "Surely you heard about the murders? It's the symbol of the killer clown, obviously."

"But... what is it for? Are you... in support of him?"

"What are you, a narc?" The other man raised his eyebrows at me.

"No. I was actually wondering where I could get one."

"You can get them in pretty much any corner store. You'll definitely want one if you're planning to go to the protest this weekend."

"Protest?" It was times like these I really wished I owned a TV. It was hard to keep up with things if you only got glimpses of the news through shop windows and stole newspapers from unsuspecting customers. 

"Yeah, the one at City Hall? You been living under a rock? Didn't you hear what that prick Thomas Wayne said about us _poor_ folks?"

I did recall that actually; they'd been playing that clip repeatedly on the news, whenever it was possibly relevant. ' _Nothing more than clowns'_. What a dick.

"They think it's going to be a quiet one." The first man grinned at his friend. "Just wait... we're going to hit them where it hurts."

"What time is the protest?"

"Starts at 3PM on Saturday."

I thanked the two customers, hurrying away to continue with other orders. But the thought of the protest stuck in my mind. Why wouldn't I want to show support for my Guardian Angel?

Oh right... sooo... maaybe I'd started referring to a murderous clown as my guardian angel. Hey, this story was never supposed to be about how well-balanced and sensible I am...

* * *

Arthur was on the way back from the hospital. He'd thought about staying overnight, but his mother was in a coma; she couldn't see or hear him, so what was the point? Besides, he needed a shower and a decent coffee. He could visit her again tomorrow.

The problem was, he didn't really want to go back to his empty, soulless apartment, just to then sit and fret about his mother all alone.

He wanted Harley.

He wanted her to hold him like she had done in the alley, so he could bury his face into her hair and she could lean into his chest and tell him everything would be alright.

But given the circumstances, what he wanted was a little problematic.

It was 10PM, and a Tuesday. Harley was done with her shift. He knew she had plans to go out with Ivy on Friday so it was unlikely she would be out tonight. She was almost certainly home; that wasn't the issue. The issue was that she apparently didn't _want_ to see him.

Arthur knew she said she needed some time, some space, and he had _tried_ to give it to her - he really had. But it had been a whole week and she hadn't shown any indication of taking things further. Surely this was enough time for her to settle her concerns? For her to realize that she needed him? Why was she so afraid? Where were these doubts coming from? Arthur wondered if she just needed a little push in the right direction; she clearly wasn't very good at figuring out what was best for her. He needed to help her see that he was what was best.

For after all, he was her savior.

How wonderfully coincidental that his subway victims were Harley's own personal demons? He'd apparently fixed all of her problems, defeated all her enemies, indebted her to him, all without even meaning to. But she didn't know it yet. Arthur longed to tell her; he'd heard the way she'd talked about the murders and she would surely fall at his feet in reverence. Surely _that_ would make her realize what she wanted? Yet still, Arthur felt that the time wasn't right. Not yet. Confessing to her that he was a murderer, even if she claimed to be happy what he did, it was risky. She talked a big game but he wasn't convinced that in reality it wouldn't scare her off. And that wasn't a risk Arthur was willing to take.

He'd somewhat thought that he wouldn't be so desperate to touch her again after the first time, that perhaps he'd get over the whole thing, but no, now that he knew what it was like, how marvelous it felt he wanted it all the more. He _craved_ it. He knew she would come around eventually but it wasn't soon enough; she was like a drug, and Arthur needed another hit.

They had come so close, that wonderful day that they had kissed in his apartment. He could still remember her scent, the taste of her lips and how she shivered when he ran his fingers over her skin. After his altercation on the subway he'd suddenly felt so _alive_ , he was struck by a surge of confidence that he'd never felt in his life, like he could finally grab what he wanted with two hands. And Harley had been the only thing in his mind. Of course the gentlemanly thing to do would've been to ask her out on a date and progress from there; that had originally been his plan, to ask her after walking her home, just before they parted ways at his apartment. But in the moment his desire for her had simply overcome him and the next thing he knew he was grabbing her, kissing her, devouring her like he'd wanted to since he'd first laid eyes on her. And not only that but she had been kissing him _back_ , tearing into him with equal enthusiasm as if she'd been waiting for it just as long. It seemed to Arthur that they fit together so well; it just felt so right. They were meant to be.

Arthur felt a jolt of anger. Everything had been going so perfectly. How dare she come so close to giving him everything he wanted, tease him with it, just to pull it away at the last moment? Was this just a game to her? Was she making fun of him? He _deserved_ her. Nobody was going to take this away from him. Not even Harley herself.

Arthur passed by his own apartment and knocked on Harley's door, loud and impatient. He doubted she even locked her door while she was home but he wanted to at least give the impression of being polite. He was reaching for the knob, almost at the point of barging in, when Harley pulled the door open.

She was wearing those pajamas again; the ones that were so distracting they should be illegal.

"Arthur?" Her voice was questioning but her face told him she knew why he was there, even if she was trying not to show it; Arthur could see the desire swimming behind her innocent expression - she wanted this just as much as he did.

She began to speak once more, but Arthur never found out what she was going to say, as he was more focused on getting his lips against hers.

Everything seemed to play out as a perfect redo of their previous encounter; he kicked the door closed as he bared down on her with a kiss and they stepped back, using the wall as leverage to press their bodies closer together. This time there would be no interruptions, nothing to stop him from fully experiencing Harley and everything she could give him. His hand jumped instinctively to her jaw, his fingers curling into the hair at the back of her head.

He paused briefly to press their foreheads together, savoring the moment.

"Arthur..."

Harley's voice was like music to him regardless but hearing her call his name in pleasure, it was almost enough to send him over the edge alone.

He slid his hand up her thigh, savoring his smooth, milky skin before hitting the hem of her shorts. He didn't know how exactly he was supposed to touch her, but he knew he wanted to, and that's all that mattered. Her hands were at his chest, her fingers twisting into his pectorals with significant pressure.

"Arthur..." Her hands pushed sharply against him.

That seemed more like she was trying to shove him away. Did she want to play rough? He somewhat hoped that would be the case; he just found it hard to hold himself back around Harley, and if he didn't he knew he wouldn't be gentle. He smiled as he closed his lips around the side of her neck and bit down.

"Arthur... stop..."

Stop? She wanted him to stop? She was pushing against his chest again, harder this time.

Arthur didn't understand. She wanted this, he _knew_ she did. She'd kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm before, what had changed? Surely she was just being coy, she was scared, naturally, as she was probably a virgin and this was going to be her first time. But he was going to make her feel comfortable, make sure she enjoyed this, And he knew she would, he just needed to calm her down a little and relax into it.

"Harley, it's okay."

His lips met hers once more and her mouth was slightly open, allowing him to slip his tongue inside. She seemed to like it, for she wriggled underneath him; Arthur stabilized her with a firm grip on her shoulders.

"Arthur-- you're hurting me!"

Hurting? That wasn't the right word... she didn't mean that... she was trying to express the pleasure she was feeling, surely? If she was in pain it was only because she was squirming so much. He tightened his grip, using the wall for leverage.

"Arthur STOP!"

Arthur tried to grab Harley as she fell but for some reason she was several steps back from him, as if he'd pushed her away. It all happened faster than Arthur could register; there was a low _thud_ as her head hit the corner of the old wooden coffee table.

It was as though he had woken up suddenly from a dream, and reality flashed into place all around him, replacing the fantasy he had constructed with the nightmare that was real life. Harley was on her knees in front of him, looking up at him with a hand pressed to her forehead. There was a trickle of blood dribbling from her temple, accompanying a rapidly reddening mark, and she was looking at him in a way that made Arthur recoil; it was with such fear and anger, her brow furrowed, her mouth split open in a shocked frown.

"H-Harley..." Arthur reached down to pick her up off the floor but she flinched, cowering away from him as if he were dangerous. Arthur felt a shot of pain in his heart; he never wanted to see Harley like this - he vowed he would kill anybody who made her feel this way but it wasn't anybody. It was _him_.

 _Did I do this?_ Arthur looked at his hands in disbelief.

But how? Harley had wanted this, at least to begin with. Or had he imagined it? Had she been fighting him all along? When he glanced back down at her and saw her anger it certainly seemed that way.

Then what about the last time? Had he imagined it then, too? No, it wasn't possible. Arthur knew he didn't have an imagination powerful enough to construct such a wonderful moment, something that felt that _real_. It happened. Whatever had happened here, now, it was a mistake. He'd just been trying to make her feel more comfortable but gotten too lost in the moment. He didn't mean to hurt her, oh god he didn't mean to do this. It was an accident. Surely she would understand.

"Harley-- I-"

"Get out." It was quiet, but unmistakable.

Arthur took a step towards her.

"Harley I'm sorry... I didn't mean--"

"I SAID GET OUT!" Harley shrieked, and it was the closest Arthur had ever seen her come to crying and he couldn't stand it. But he obeyed her command, for he didn't know what else to do to make it better. The door slammed behind him and he stood in the hall sheepishly, no longer sure what to do with himself.

He couldn't believe he had fucked up this badly. His mind screamed at him that he was done, that he had lost it all.

He'd lost her forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been feeling pretty down lately, sorry if the quality of my writing has taking a dive. Reading comments from you guys always cheers me up so drop me a note if you have time <3


	10. Chapter 10

I hung up my brand-new clown mask just above my dresser, next to the newspaper clippings of the murders I'd tacked up. Sure, it was a cheap plastic thing, but it meant so much more to me. It was a symbol of my guardian angel.

It was late, and I was exhausted as usual, but for some reason I just didn't feel sleepy. I was rooting through my sparse cupboards for a snack that didn't involve crackers or ramen, when there was a knock at my door.

I'll be honest, I already guessed who it was - I never got any other visitors - so I didn't bother looking through the peephole. I wasn't surprised to see Arthur standing there, but I was slightly taken aback by the way he looked at me; it was with a sort of intense ferocity, like he was a man on a mission.

"Arthur what--"

Before I could say another word, Arthur's mouth was pressed hard against mine. And fuck, it felt so good... despite dreaming about it every day, none of my fantasies had done justice to how fucking _great_ it actually felt. We hit the wall, lips still locked together, bodies pressing against each other eagerly. I noticed how Arthur's hands jumped to my wrists, as if he was expecting me to protest.

_You **should** protest._

Ugh. Could I not just enjoy it for one more minute?

_Uptight Harley says no._

"Arthur... wait..." Reluctantly, I began to extricate myself from his grip. "I still don't think this is a good idea..."

Ah, but it felt like such a _great_ idea...

Another kiss silenced me, and I relaxed into him momentarily. Why did I feel so content, so safe in his embrace?

He dropped one hand to my hip, holding me tight against him. The other was on my thigh, gliding up the outside with enough pressure to make me shiver and cruelly stoking the flame of anticipation. He reached the hem of my shorts and I was expecting him to stop; it was too soon to be so bold, weren't we going to ease into it a little? Apparently not. His hand had already snuck under the loose fabric and was sliding over my behind. I wasn't wearing underwear, who wore underwear with their pajamas? It was all happening so fast and I hadn't had time to properly protest or even properly think about what was happening. I still didn't know what I wanted.

The feral part of my brain screamed at me, _Yes you do!_

_Fuck_. I knew, in that moment, I just wanted him. I wanted him so badly.

But I had to think beyond that; I had to be the responsible one because he wasn't going to be. Seriously, how was that fair?

"Arthur--" I closed my hand around his, pulling it away, stopping him before he could touch me properly. God, it was torture.

"Arthur... I... I still need time, I'm sorry..."

I twisted my fingers into his shirt, gently trying to push him off me but at the same time fighting against myself.

However, Arthur either didn't hear me or didn't care; he leaned back into me and returned his hand to where it had left off. Why did he have to make this so difficult? I resisted still, pushing harder against him.

"Arthur..."

His lips closed around the side of my neck and I whimpered; he knew my weak point. _Give in to him_. My mind chanted.

"Aah- A-Arthur..." He was kissing and sucking on my neck, just firmly enough so I couldn't help but squirm. My knees buckled. I couldn't protest for much longer; I was beginning to forget the reasons why I was against it in the first place. His hand was back under my shorts and his palm cupped my bare butt, which he squeezed with enough pressure to make my mouth drop open in a gasp. I needed to get him away from me.

"Arthur... stop... please..."

"Harley, it's okay."

I shook my head. Why didn't he understand? Nothing about this was okay. This wasn't right, as much as I wanted it to be. We had to stop.

"No, Arthur..."

The back of my head hit the wall again as he thrust his tongue roughly into my mouth. It was clumsy and forceful, and felt like he was trying to shove his tongue down my throat. It wasn't really a _nice_ kiss - there was too much purpose behind it; he was focusing too much on trying to get me to break my resolve rather than what he was actually doing to my mouth. I tried to wriggle away and suddenly he was grasping my upper arms, tight, almost painfully so, forcing me back into the wall. I could barely move and could feel his fingernails digging into my triceps as he attacked my mouth once again.

His grip was starting to hurt, but the worst part was I kinda liked it; it sent a wicked thrill shooting through me and I almost gave in, starting to kiss him back once more.

That was until he held me tighter still, and it felt like he was beginning to cut the circulation off in my arms. He was strong, so much stronger than I would ever have guessed for his frail appearance; I was so squashed between him and the wall I was starting to struggle to breathe.

"A-Arthur stop-- you're hurting me!" I gasped.

I assumed that this would give him pause - he would take a step back, make sure I was okay - but it only seemed to make him more determined to hold me still. He braced his knee against my legs and kissed me harder still, and it took all the strength I had to wrench my lips away from his .

"Arthur get-- off-- me--"

Why wasn't he listening to me? I struggled more violently, and somehow managed to spin us around - or perhaps it was Arthur who was trying to push us to the ground - either way we were just as tightly attached and I continued to throw my weight against him.

"Arthur STOP!"

His eyes widened suddenly as he let go of me.

My mouth opened slightly in shock. I'd been pushing against him so hard and hadn't been prepared for him to release me; all the power I'd been using shove him away was abruptly funneled into launching me backwards, and it was enough to lift me off my feet.

_Thud_

I hit the floor.

I couldn't really fill in the gap between Arthur letting go of me and the moment I was laying face down on floorboards, but from the pain in the side of my head I knew I must've struck something on the way down. Something sharp and hard. With difficulty, I pushed myself up into a sitting position, and the world wobbled around me.

"Ouch..." My hand flew to my head instinctively, and I felt the sticky thickness of blood coat my fingers.

I looked back up at Arthur.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Sure, Arthur was a little intense, but he wasn't _dangerous_. He wasn't supposed to make me feel this way, he made me feel safe. He was the last person who would hurt me. Right? Was I wrong about that? I didn't _think_ I was wrong, but the gash on the side of my temple begged to differ.

I felt almost drowned by a sudden, numbing sense of betrayal. Was I completely wrong about him? Was he just as bad as every other guy in Gotham?

"Get out." I mumbled quietly.

"Harley I'm sorry... I didn't mean--"

"I SAID GET OUT!" I shrieked. I pointed at the door, trembling, and I couldn't look him in the eye any longer. I blinked fiercely. I _refused_ to cry over this. Over _him_.

To my relief he did leave, leaving me alone, curled up on the floor of my empty apartment.

* * *

Ivy had sworn off men for a while. Unfortunately for me, that meant she was going to spend her time fixated on my lovelife instead. I managed to dodge her a lot of the time at work with excuses about customers but that Friday night we ended up at a bar and I naively didn't come up with an escape plan.

"So, hows things with the neighbor?" She grinned at me, and I knew she'd been waiting _all week_ for this moment, despite how nonchalant she tried to appear.

"...I haven't spoken to him since that other time in the alley."

Okay, that was a lie, but I didn't want to tell her about what happened in my apartment.

"Aww seriously?" She pouted. "But he lives right next to you, how do you not see him like every day?"

"I guess he has a life." We grabbed our drinks, smiling sweetly at the poor sap who'd bought them for us. "Unlike you..."

"C'mon Harley, this never happens, you know it's exciting for me."

"Nothing's happening Ivy. I told you, it's over. He's too old for me."

"Geez, you're really hung up on that older thing aren't you?"

"I'm not _hung up_ on it, I just know it doesn't make sense."

"But why? It's totally okay if that's your thing."

"It's not 'my thing'--"

"Look, how bout this. You obviously don't like guys our age, so let's find you someone who's older, but not quite as old as Arthur. Like early-to-mid-thirties." She began to scan the room.

"No that's okay..."

"Ooh how about that guy! He's handsome!"

"Ivy I really don't-- fuck..." I cursed as Ivy jumped up and bounced over to a man a few tables away from us.

She didn't get it. I wasn't attracted to Arthur because he was older... it was because he was _different_. I just felt like... he got me. I felt like I could tell him anything. He was funny, he didn't have an entitled bone in his body. And... fine, maybe it was a little because he was older. But I preferred to think of it as _maturity_.

"Soo he's married." Ivy shrugged, dropping back into her seat.

"Oh, what a shame." I muttered sarcastically.

"Yeah yeah, I know you don't care. You were just thinking about Arthur the whole time weren't you?"

I felt my face flood red. "N-no-- I wasn't, I just--"

"Harley, why don't you just go and fuck him already?"

"I thought we talked about this." I sighed.

After our little incident, I hadn't actually seen Arthur all week. He hadn't come to the cafe, and he hadn't even tried to talk to me, let alone barge his way into my apartment. Was he giving me space like I'd asked? Or something else? Had he given up on the idea of us entirely? The thought gave me both an overwhelming sense of relief and this feeling that I can only describe as a huge chasm of sadness.

Much to my dismay, Ivy wasn't planning to let the topic drop that easily. "We talked about it a _bit_ , and you basically dodged the question with some useless, vague answers."

"Those are still my answers."

"What, that you're worried he's too old for you?"

"Yeah."

"Why? You keep saying that 'it doesn't feel right', but why does it actually bother you? So it's probably a 20-year gap, who cares? You know Marilyn Monroe dated a guy almost 50 years older than her? You get on well, you're attracted to him, what's the issue?"

"I... it's just... it's weird! If I went out with him people would think he's my Dad! I don't want people judging me..."

"Bullshit Harley. When have you _ever_ cared about what people think?"

"Well... I..."

"What's the real reason? Does he have a tiny wiener?"

"No! I mean... it didn't... feel like he did..."

"So... is he a bad kisser? Is he actually your long lost uncle? Did he want you to pee on his face?"

"Ivy, gross, can you just--"

"Is he actually a woman? A serial killer? Harley there must be something!"

"Fine!" I slammed my hands on the table, sloshing our drinks around. "It's because I'm scared, ok?! Now can you just fucking leave it alone?"

Ivy smirked triumphantly at my outburst. "You're scared?"

"No-- I-- forget I said that..."

"Scared... scared why? Scared to admit you have mega daddy issues? Scared he's going to suck in bed?"

"No... it's just..."

"Oh _I_ know. You're scared you're going to fall for him aren't you?"

"I--"

"You're terrified of actually, for once, feeling something _real_."

I looked away. Fuck, that was exactly it. I cursed Ivy for knowing me so well.

I breathed out slowly. "I just... what if it doesn't work out Ivy? What if I _do_ fall for him a-and... he decides he doesn't want me? I don't want to deal with that pain... I don't want him to have control over my happiness..."

I touched the scab on my temple. Already, the way he made me feel just a few days prior... it had devastated me. I knew, ultimately it was an accident; he hadn't been _trying_ to hurt me... but he did. And it seemed to hurt me even more emotionally; I felt liked he lied to me, like he led me on. He was already able to cause me that much heartache and I wasn't even in deep yet - how was I going to feel if I fell for him, _really_ fell for him, and he abandoned me? Discarded me, just like everyone else in my life did?

Ivy whistled. "Wow Harley, look at you. This is the one time you actually might like, maybe even _love_ somebody and you're running away because you're scared? Don't you think that's a little silly?"

"Well maybe love is silly!" I replied hotly. "Maybe I don't _want_ to love somebody. I don't _need_ to be in a relationship, I can take care of myself, why do I need somebody if they're just going to make me weak?"

There was a pause, and Ivy chewed her lip, looking down at her drink. "You mean... weak like I was with Pete."

"...I... no Ivy... that's not what I'm trying--"

"No, Harles, it's fine. You're right. I was weak. I was a crumbling mess." She stirred her drink, suddenly a little less boisterous.

"Ivy... it wasn't that bad--"

"No it was! And you know it! I was a fucking idiot! And I know, that's not the only time, you've had to deal with me being a totally useless excuse for a person so many times because of all my shitty boyfriends."

I pursed my lips. She said it, not me.

"But you know what Harles? I don't regret being that way. I've been through a lot of pain, sure, but there were the good parts too. And the good parts... falling in love... it feels better than you could ever imagine. But you can't have one without the other. If you don't make yourself vulnerable, you're never going to feel real love."

I swallowed. "Maybe I'm not cut out for real love." I mumbled.

"Well if you want to stay single forever and be the fun aunt to my kids, I support you on that one hundred percent. But... I know you pretty well Harley... and I'm kinda getting the impression that that's _not_ what you want."

I looked at her. "No?"

"You want him."

I scowled, but didn't refute her claim, and she smiled knowingly.

I want him...

I sat up straight, shaking the thoughts out of my head. "Ok, can you stop being so insightful and just down your fucking drink?"

"Yes m'aam!"

* * *

I couldn't stop thinking about what Ivy had said that night, and even more so what _I'd_ said. I hadn't really realized that I was scared until I said it out loud.

I wasn't just scared, I was fucking _terrified_. Nobody, not a single person in my life, had the ability to make me feel like Arthur did, and I didn't even know what that feeling was! It was desire, but more than that, it was like a _hunger_ that raged within me and I could barely control it. I wanted to let it run wild, I wanted to see where it took me and give myself over to Arthur completely.

But what if he changed his mind? The only person I'd ever felt truly wanted me in my life, what if he threw me aside? It would break me, I was sure of it.

I was able to put it all out of my mind for the City Hall protest at least. I was positively bouncing off the walls with excitement as Saturday approached. I had my mask, a cute new red dress to match the colors and I'd made a sign.

_FUCK THOMAS WAYNE!_

It said. And on the other side,

_WALL STREET 3 DESERVED TO DIE!_

Okay, I know, it was a little out there. But I was going to have a mask on, nobody would attribute it to me.

I wouldn't admit it to myself at the time, but I know now - deep down, I didn't really care about the politics or the reason for the protest. Sure, Thomas Wayne was a dick, and the poor were treated terribly in Gotham, but I didn't expect that to change with a bunch of people chanting and waving signs around. By being there... god, it was so dumb, but I was kinda hoping my guardian angel would show up. Or maybe he would see me on TV, see my sign and know that I was grateful for what he did, y'know? I wanted to thank him.

...And then maybe he would come find me and whisk me off my feet and we'd fall in love and wreak havoc on all the other pricks in Gotham.

Ahaha... ignore that last part.

Either way I found the protests _exhilarating_. The chaos, the total disregard for laws and the police and all the shitty people who tried to tell us what to do. Nothing but a united group of people screaming at everyone who had treated us wrong for so long. It was the biggest thrill I'd ever felt and I didn't want it to end. I was still on a high as I walked home from the subway later that night. Apparently there was going to be another protest in a week; I was _definitely_ going to be there.

I was halfway into the long walk down Church St, when the hairs on the back of my neck stiffened suddenly. I was aware somebody was walking behind me, but it had just occurred to me they'd been behind me for an awfully long time - since the subway station at a minimum. There was no need to panic yet - they could just be walking the same way by coincidence - but for some reason it made my hackles rise.

I knew another way to get home which was a little more convoluted; I decided to take the alternate route, just to be safe. I crossed over the road and took a turn left, instead of right.

The footsteps behind me slowed, paused, then restarted, getting closer to me once more.

Okaaay, apparently they were going this way too.

My heart started to hammer a little faster.

_Chill, Harley._

Still no need to panic. It could still be a coincidence, and I wasn't defenseless; I had my pepper spray and my ability to give a powerful kick in the nuts.

If they were following me though, it wasn't smart to lead them to my house.

_Nobody is following you, you're overreacting._

I turned at the next side street instead of continuing straight as I would've done. The figure behind me had turned also, keeping their pace in time with mine. I turned again at the next road, so I was now doubling back on myself.

Again, the figure took the same route.

_Oh shit, they're definitely following me!_

I sped up.

So did they.

I broke into a run.

I didn't know where I was going anymore; I took each turn randomly, left, right, straight, right again, another right, I was going in circles but I was desperately trying to throw them off, get out of their line of sight as quickly as possible. I didn't recognize where I was anymore, and as I rounded the next corner I realized I had hit a dead end - but it seemed like I'd lost them.

I leaned against the wall of the alley, out of breath and gasping hard. "Fuck me..." I muttered.

Should I wait there for a bit? Should I try and find a main road? I stood frozen in the moonlight, unsure what to do.

Just then, my view darkened as a long shadow was cast over the ground.

They'd found me.

_Oh shit._

I backed up, but I knew I had nowhere to go and the stalker was now advancing on me, fast. I tried not to panic further; I had a plan B.

"I have pepper spray!" I shouted at them. "And I'm not afraid to use it!"

I was running out of room to run away and they were approaching me closer and closer. I rooted around in my purse urgently.

_Where the fuck is it..._

Was this really time to be fumbling around like a bimbo? Just fucking find it Harley! 

As I dug into the recesses of my bag with my fingernails, a memory popped into my head.

_"Next time you see that fucker, you spray him with this right in the eyes, you got that?"_

Oh fuck.

I gave Ivy the pepper spray.

I looked up, and the shadowy, hooded figure was looming over me. The back of the alley was meters behind me.

I had nowhere to run.

_Oh fuck._


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, sorry this took a little longer than usual - I had a couple of really busy weeks IRL. Should be back to our normal schedule (roughly) now.

I had nowhere to run.

 _Fuck_.

I backed up anyway, but it was only seconds before my shoulders hit the wall and I had boxed myself in even more. Should I attack? Run at them? Try and scare them off?

As my assailant approached, light from a nearby street lamp streaked across his face and I got a good look. It was a man I didn't recognize - he looked somewhere in his mid-to-late twenties, his face all sharp corners and stubble. There was an eerily passive look on his face, as if this was just another night for him.

I decided I was going to make a run for it. I shot forward, aiming at the small gap between him and the wall but also leaning forward and tucking my arms in like a human cannon ball. He moved lazily to block my path and unfortunately I wasn't able to barrel through him like I was hoping; he caught me around the waist with a lumbering pair of arms and began to drag me back to the end of the alley.

"NO! GET OFF ME!" I screamed the words as loud as I possibly could, hoping there was someone, anyone nearby who could save me. Fuck was he strong; I couldn't budge his arms an inch.

"HELP! HEL--mmpph!!" His hand pressed over my mouth and nose and it smelled like gasoline and cigarettes. I struggled and thrashed, kicking my legs back, sideways, every which way, desperately trying to make contact with his groin or shins or _something_. "Mmm-mpphhh--" I bit down on his hand and broke skin, and he yelped in surprise. "LET ME GO!!" I screamed, suddenly able to talk once more. "GET OFF M--!"

Then, something cold and thin slid in front of my neck and I froze.

"Don't fucking move." The man snarled, in a gravelly voice.

Stupid as it was, I wasn't really the type to obey commands, even with the sharp edge of a knife pressed against my neck.

"NO!! HELP ME! HEELPP!" My cries quickly devolved from coherent words to just a continuous scream, as I had to concentrate on fighting against him. Unfortunately he was a lot stronger than me and succeeded in wrestling me to the ground.

"I SAID DON'T FUCKING MOVE!" He screamed into my ears, nearly deafening me.

His palm was on my face again, squashing my nose and squeezing my cheeks, and he threw one leg over me so he was sitting on my hips.

"Mm--mph... NO...! Mpph-- s-- stop, please!..." I mumbled through his palm as he fought to restrain me. He was pressing his whole weight into my pelvis and I could barely move a muscle, despite struggling with all my power.

The knife was against my neck again, though harder this time, and I felt a sharp sting. I stopped dead - barely daring to gulp - I knew it was slicing into me already. If I moved any more... the man seemed aware of this too, and he held it there fiercely, pleased that he'd finally had some success subduing me.

"One more whimper-- one more _twitch_ , and I'll drain your blood onto this pavement, got that?" He hissed the words venomously and the spittle flying from his mouth hit my cheeks, slimy and warm. My eyes widened in terror and he seemed to take that for an affirmation for he removed his hand from my mouth once more. I didn't dare make a sound, hell, I didn't dare _breathe_ I was so frightened. Just an ounce more pressure and the blade would be right through my jugular. I wasn't sure I could even swallow without putting my life in danger.

I knew what was coming. I knew he wasn't trying to rob me; he wouldn't have tried so hard to get me immobile if that was the case, he would've just grabbed my bag and ran. No, he was going to rape me, against the pavement, in this dark, cold alley. There was no avoiding it, unless I wanted to die instead. But was he going to leave me alone after he was done? Or would he kill me anyway? Wouldn't it be better to just die than be raped and _then_ die? I considered putting up a fight once more but was distracted by his hands working their way down my torso, undoing my shirt buttons quickly, impatiently, just ripping the threads of any that were too tricky. He pulled the fabric outwards, exposing my stomach and bra and I stared up at the moonlit sky, trying to take my mind out of the situation. I could feel the night air on my bare skin and I shivered, gritting my teeth.

I wasn't proud of it but I felt a pang of anger towards Ivy. If she hadn't been with that idiot, if she didn't have such shit taste in men, I never would've had to give her my pepper spray and I wouldn't be in this mess.

Fuck this. I wasn't going down without a fight.

"NO! HELP! HELP M-"

_BANG_

I shrieked. My ears began to ring with a high pitched whine and all my muscles tightened, expecting imminent pain. Had he changed his mind and just shot me instead of slitting my throat?

But instead of pain, there were two strong hands around my waist, pulling me up into a sitting position. They seemed gentle. Did I dare open my eyes?

I looked up,

"A-Arthur...?!"

"Harley, are you alright?" He took my head in his hands, his thumbs pressing into the hollows of my cheeks urgently. "Did he hurt you?"

"I... n-no... not really..."

He helped me up, and I pulled my shirt closed, shivering. I couldn't help but glance down at the body, slowly bleeding out a pool of crimson that reflected our faces in the moonlight.

Arthur pulled my chin back towards him. "Don't look. Here." He wrapped his jacket around my shoulders and I huddled into it, grateful for the warmth and comfort. I let him lead me to the mouth of the alley, a little dazed.

He bent down slightly, so his eyes were level with mine, and his wildly green irises bored fiercely into me.

"We're two blocks from home. Go straight there." It was a gentle, but firm command. "Turn left here and carry on until you hit our street."

I nodded. "O-ok... but... w-what about you?"

"Go Harley."

"Ok..."

I looked back once more, but Arthur had already disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

Arthur wiped his hands against his trousers for the fifth time. He'd tried to avoid the blood as much as he could, but the body had been absolutely _covered_ \- that's what happens when you shoot somebody in the head. He knew he had no choice but to hide the body; with the police already sniffing around, another murder victim turning up a couple blocks from where he lived didn't look good. Luckily Arthur's pants were dark maroon, so the copious amounts of crimson he was depositing on them didn't really show, and he was confident the place he'd dumped the body was fairly foolproof.

Thank God he'd followed Harley home. Thank _God_. Arthur knew she wanted space and he'd _tried_ , he'd tried so hard to give her some. He hadn't spoken to her for what had to be a week? Even though he was so desperate to apologize for what happened he was scared to make it worse, perhaps if he just left her alone she'd forget about it... He couldn't bring himself to disconnect entirely though, particularly when she insisted on walking home alone so late at night all the time. Besides, he had been at the protest too, albeit briefly. He rubbed his nose. It still hurt from where Thomas Wayne had punched him.

As Arthur reached the top of the stairs to the third floor hallway and turned towards his apartment, he didn't expect to see the small figure huddled against his door, swamped in his hoodie, knees pulled to her chest. Her eyes were shining with tears and it with an expression of such relief that she looked at him.

"Harley...?" Arthur approached her slowly, dropping down into a crouch as his feet touched hers.

More tears spilled out of Harley's eyes and she seemed to struggle to speak through sobs. Arthur put a hand on her knee uncertainly; he didn't have much experience comforting people.

"A-Arthur… I’m sorry I…" She stuttered. "I was so s-scared… I just... I didn’t want to be alone..."

"It's-- you don't need to explain Harley..."

Arthur had never once seen Harley cry; she always seemed so tough, so unbreakable - so seeing her like this... it was heartbreaking. He reached for her cheek, brushing a tear away gently with his fingers. She sniffed and wiped her eyes, seemingly embarrassed, but Arthur grabbed her hands and pulled them away, before wrapping his arms around her shoulders in a hug. She leaned into him, giving herself over to a gentle rhythm of sobs.

"It’s okay Harley…" Arthur murmured. "I’ll always be there to protect you. I won’t let anybody touch you again."

They embraced in silence, except for the occasional muffled hiccup and sniff from Harley, beneath Arthur's chest. After a long while Harley spoke.

"Arthur?" She mumbled.

"Hm?" Arthur squeezed her shoulders in acknowledgement.

"C-Can... can I stay with you tonight?"

Arthur's eyes nearly popped out of his head and he felt a warm blush flood his cheeks. Stay with him? Like in his apartment, _with_ him? Overnight? On the couch? Or... in his bed?

"Ha..."

Oh seriously, now?

"Ha ha ha ha ha! Hahahaha!"

Arthur covered his mouth; Harley seemed particularly jumpy right now and he didn't want to spook her. They were also having such a nice moment.

"HA HA HA HA h-- mmmph-- s- sorry--" He managed to mumble, between ha's. "Hm- HA HA HA"

But Harley seemed unfazed; without a moment of hesitation she reached her arms up and wrapped them around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder as he struggled to control his laughter. It was with a tenderness Arthur couldn't recall ever experiencing, and he felt a wave of calm wash over him.

"Ha... ha ha ha ha..." Arthur pulled himself together as his laughter died down, coughing to remove the uncomfortable stuck feeling in his throat. He sat back in Harley's embrace, looking her in the eyes.

"I- of course you can stay."

And he stood up suddenly, with Harley still hanging around his neck. He looped a hand under her thighs and lifted her legs too, carrying her bridal style across the threshold to his apartment after unlocking the door quickly. He walked her into the living room, laying her gently on the couch.

"Let me... I'll make you some tea."

"Thank you Arthur." Harley smiled up at him weakly.

As he returned with the tea, Arthur sat down on the couch next to her, tentatively, a foot away so as to not make her uncomfortable. Despite what had happened just outside his door, he was still vividly aware of what had happened at their last meeting. He wasn't sure if she still wanted space, and he didn't want to screw up more than he already had.

Harley, however, had other ideas. Without a moment of hesitation she scooted up next to him and leaned her head against his shoulder. She was tucked up in a small ball with her knees to her chest, but leaning slightly to the side resting against his thigh. She hooked her arm around his bicep, holding herself close to him. Arthur reveled in the feeling.

"Arthur?" Harley asked quietly. "How... how did you find me? How did you know I was..." She trailed off, seemingly not wanting to give her ordeal a name.

"I was on the way home and I... I heard you scream." Arthur's hand curled into a fist as he thought about it. "I followed your voice."

This wasn't entirely true - Arthur had been following her and saw as soon as she'd veered from her usual path - but he didn't feel guilty about it, if he hadn't she might be dead.

"Arthur... thank you..." She said quietly. "I don't know what I would've done if you weren't there."

"Don't think about it."

"That man... he... he's dead isn't he?"

Arthur hesitated. She didn't need to know the gory details, he took care of it, that was all the mattered. But still, he knew she wasn't a fool.

"Yes." He replied.

"But... a-are you going to get into trouble?" Her voice was high with concern and she bit her lip - Arthur looked away before his mind could wander. It wasn't the right time to feel like that. "What if the police find the body?" She continued. "What if--"

"They won't. You don't need to worry."

"B-but--"

Arthur couldn't help himself - he reached down brushed a thumb across her bottom lip. He wanted to press his thumb into her mouth and pull her lips open to kiss her, hard and deep, but he resisted, settling for stroking her cheek gently. Harley leaned into his hand, eventually adjusting her head to lean against his lap, and Arthur moved to stroke her hair as her eyes began to close.

"Now I have two heroes..." She mumbled, sleepily.

"Heroes?"

"Yeah... you... and the subway killer..."

Arthur wanted her to say more, maybe he could even tell her the truth finally, but as he looked down at her cherubic face he realized she'd fallen asleep already.

He stroked her hair, smiling to himself. He really was her guardian angel.

* * *

I woke with a start, sensing that I wasn't at home in my bed. It was a few seconds before my memories flooded back, and I remembered that I was in Arthur's apartment, asleep on Arthur's lap. I felt him adjust his legs beneath me, and realized he was awake, fully clothed. Had he been sitting there awake all night?

"Arthur?" I looked up at him through the cloud of smoke that floated above me. "Didn’t you sleep?"

Arthur shook his head, seemingly unbothered.

_Of course he didn't, obviously he didn't want to wake you up considering you fell asleep ON him!_

I lifted my head. "Oh-- Arthur I'm sorry! You could've woken me up or told me to move--"

"It's fine."

"I'll get up, maybe you can go to bed now--"

"Don't." His fingers slid over and interlaced with mine. "Stay. Just a little longer."

His response surprised me, but pleasantly so. I lowered my head back onto his shoulder and a wave of calm washed over me; I felt so safe next to him.

"I... I was thinking that man last night..." I said quietly. "He's dead... but..."

Arthur's grip tightened around my hand.

"I... I feel like I should feel some kind of remorse..." I continued. "Or... feel bad that he's dead... but... I just... I just don't. I'm happy that he's dead. I feel like he deserved it. That's not what you're supposed to think." I began to trace patterns on Arthur's chest with my finger, deep in thought. "It's how I felt about the subway murders too... I didn't feel sad for even a second." I looked down, ashamed. "Is that terrible? Am... am I a horrible person?"

Arthur said nothing, but shook his head slowly, looking down at me with an expression I couldn't discern. Did he agree? I stared back up at him, our eyes focused on each other as if they were connected by a string. I bit my bottom lip anxiously, suddenly aware of the heat of his body, the scent of his cologne. How long had his mouth been so close to mine?

All previous thoughts seemed to disintegrate from my mind and the only thing I could think about was how much I wanted to kiss him. And before I could think of all the reasons I shouldn't, I closed the remaining gap and pressed my lips softly to his.

He kissed me back gently at first, but soon seemed to not be able to withhold his enthusiasm; his hand quickly became tangled into my hair and he pulled on the back of my head, pulling me closer to him. It wasn't long before his tongue hit my lips, forcing its way in, and his palm cupped the back of my neck tight. I kissed him harder still, nipping at his bottom lip with my teeth and twisting my fingers into his shirt.

I suddenly didn't have any patience at all and I began to pull at his vest buttons; I'd spent way too long making up reasons not to do this when in truth it was the thing I wanted to do most in the world. Fuck, why were these buttons so stiff? And why were there so many of them? I pulled at them fruitlessly. Before I could get much farther however, with a swift motion Arthur had pulled me up, around, and onto his lap; my back was pushed up against his chest and I could feel his hard length jutting urgently into my tailbone through his slacks. I gasped at the sensation. My lips felt weird without his pressed against them and I twisted my head around awkwardly in desperation to kiss him again. His hands were holding my hips, adjusting my position on top of his erection and each movement sent a hot jolt down my spine.

"Oh... Arthur..." I mumbled into his mouth.

He was hiking my skirt up and I couldn't think; I just kept my lips locked to his. And as I kissed him his hand crept around to the inside of my thigh, and I closed my eyes. He pushed my underwear to the side, with apparently no patience to take them off. I was trembling with anticipation and my pussy was positively _aching_ ; the only thing stopping my hips bucking was Arthur's firm grip holding me down. I couldn't remember ever feeling like this before; I never wanted somebody to touch me so badly in my life. I could hear him breathing just as heavily as I was.

"Arthur..." I whimpered. "P-Please..."

Without hesitation, he obliged. His first touch sent spasms rocketing through my body and my hands tightened on his thighs as I tried to stay still. He pushed two fingers in between my labia and began to move them around, slowly, gently, exploring. Up first, then down, he traced a circle around my entrance before dragging his fingers back up once more. He stopped to rub the nub right at the top and I squirmed ecstatically, but he held me still. It didn't seem like he was deliberately teasing me by probing so slowly, he was just getting his bearings - but _fuck_ was it driving me crazy. I moaned quietly into his ear and he seemed to like that, for he went right back to agitating my clit, a little faster this time.

"Ah... a-- oh!... Arthur..." I bit my knuckles, barely able to keep a hold on myself.

His fingertips slid between my folds once again, down to my entrance, and I jumped and gasped as he suddenly plunged two fingers inside of me.

"F-fuck! Arthur-- ha... mmm..." My back arched and he bit the skin between my neck and shoulder and I whimpered desperately. His fingers had started to move in and out at different speeds and angles - it seemed like he was trying to figure out what felt good but it _all_ felt good. I needed more.

"A-Arthur I... I can't... I want..." I couldn't take it anymore; with difficulty I reached behind me and began to pull at Arthur's fly once again. "Arthur... fuck me, please." I whispered.

Arthur didn't speak, but nodded, removing his fingers from my slick pussy. I tried to turn around but he held me still; he seemed adamant not to relinquish control to me and I reveled in it. I was so used to being the bossy, aggressive one that it was such a different feeling to finally let someone else call the shots. And I loved it. I would've done anything he said, let him fuck me any way and anywhere.

Arthur pulled my soaked panties slowly down my thighs and as I began to help bring them over my knees he grabbed my wrists, stopping me.

"No. I want them there."

I bit my lip; leaving my panties around my knees was somewhat restricting to my movement and that just made it that much hotter. My mind was screaming in lust.

_Knock Knock_

We both froze. Who the fuck was at the door? Arthur didn't seem like the type of person to get visitors. And seriously? _Now_?

_Knock Knock Knock_

I twisted my head to kiss him hard once again and Arthur seemed to be thinking the same thing; we were just going to ignore whoever was out there and continue with our... activities. He grabbed my hips and pushed me onto my stomach on the couch, at the same time fumbling with his pants. I raised my butt up, ready for him.

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK_

"Arthur! We know you're in there! Open up!"

I felt him kneeling behind me and I had to bite my tongue to stop myself moaning loudly.

"This is Detective Garrity and Burke, we spoke to you the other night. We wanted to ask you some more questions."

Again, we both paused. That was a little harder to ignore. I sat up.

"Maybe you should answer tha-- mmmphh!" My question was cut short as Arthur clamped a hand over my mouth. His grip was hard and his fingers were pressing aggressively into the hollows of my cheeks. I attempted to pull away - slightly overcome with claustrophobia - but Arthur had his other arm around my waist and was holding tight.

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK_

"Arthur!" The voices called again.

Arthur spoke directly into my ear and I could feel his lips move against my earlobe. "They don't have a warrant. They'll leave."

I had so many questions. Why was Arthur being chased down by the police? A cold fear settled over me - was this about last night? Had they found the body? Was Arthur going to jail? Saving somebody was a reasonable defense right? I could testify for him...

We continued to sit there, frozen - the detectives were _incredibly_ persistent and it wasn't until at least ten minutes later that we heard footsteps walking away. 

As soon as we heard the door to the stairwell bang shut, Arthur stood up and began to do up his pants.

"Arthur what... where are you going?"

He pulled on his jacket. "I have something I need to do."

"...Right now?" My panties were still around my knees and I wasn't really that much less in the mood after the interruption. Arthur, however, seemed to have switched mindsets entirely and was only interested in doing whatever this errand was.

"Yeah... I... I guess I have to get to work soon too." I tried to hide the disappointment in my voice as I dressed myself, blushing a little at the total disarray my clothes were in.

Arthur seemed to notice my tone of voice as he paused and squeezed my hand. "I-- This can't wait. But meet me after work." He waited for me to follow him to the entryway. "I'll walk you home."

"Okay..." I followed him out into the hallway, watching him lock his door.

He bent down and kissed me on the forehead, which sent a pleasant shiver down my spine, before turning on his heel and marching away.


	12. Chapter 12

Not that it was unusual for my mind to wander during work, but for the rest of the day I just found it impossible to tear my thoughts away from Arthur. Ivy had barely greeted me when I was telling her everything that had happened without her even asking - omitting the part where Arthur had committed murder, of course.

I trailed off mid-explanation, realizing Ivy was staring at me, her mouth slightly agape.

"Harley... Jesus... you were attacked? What... who did it? You didn't recognize--"

"No, no clue." I waved my hand impatiently. I was hoping she'd focus more on the stuff about Arthur. "I'm fine though, like I said - Arthur saved me before he could really do anything--"

"And you stayed overnight at his place, right." She folded her arms. "You slept with him I assume?"

"I... well... kinda... but not exactly... I fell asleep on his lap so nothing happened but then in the morning..."

I watched Ivy's eyebrows shoot higher and higher up her forehead as I recounted the events, my cheeks glowing a little.

"But why would there be detectives at his door? It doesn't necessarily mean he did something wrong - he could be a witness to something I guess? ...But if he didn't answer, that _definitely_ seems like he's got a guilty conscience."

"Yeah, I have no clue." I lied. "But anyway, he just... he left before we'd... you know. Isn't... isn't that weird? Do you think... maybe he didn't like it?"

Ivy rolled her eyes at me. "Harley, don't you think you're worrying about the wrong thing here? There were _police_ at his door! He could be a criminal!"

"I'm sure it's a misunderstanding." I dismissed. "The police in this city are useless."

I wondered what Ivy would say if she knew Arthur had killed a man, even if it was to protect me. I didn't tell her partly because I didn't want to scare her, but... I also didn't want her to disapprove of Arthur and I. "But Ivy..." I insisted. "Why did he just leave?"

She sighed, seeing that I wasn't to be distracted.

"Look, you said he wanted to meet you after work right? Why would he do that if he'd suddenly decided he wasn't interested? Maybe what he had to do was just... really important."

"I guess..." I mumbled. But I could tell from Ivy's expression that she was just trying to make me feel better.

Work didn't get any easier. My mind was plagued all day by thoughts of _'What if I wasn't reciprocating enough?', 'Did I make too much noise? Not enough noise?', 'Does he have other girls and I wasn't as good?'_

The TV was playing the end of an episode of Murray Franklin, an evening comedy slash talk show - it was a rerun from the previous night. It was a hugely popular show - Ivy and I occasionally watched it, but usually only when there was a celebrity we liked being interviewed. I stood and watched as I dried off some plates, desperate to distract myself from worrying about my adequacy in the bedroom.

_"Here's a guy who thinks if you just keep laughing, it'll somehow make you funny. Check out this Joker."_

I dropped the plate I was holding, and it smashed at my feet.

"Oh-- Fuck!"

I scooped up the pieces quickly - before Farrow could appear and take it out of my wages - and turned my attention back to the TV. The clip Murray was showing... it was of Arthur.

_"I hated school as a kid... ha... ha ha ha ha ha!"_

He seemed to be attempting a stand up routine, but couldn't manage through a fit of involuntary laughter.

_"No I won't Ma, I'm gonna be a comedian!"_

Murray's face reappeared with a mocking expression.

_"You should've listened to your mother."_

_"Ha... haa ha ha ha ha!"_

"Oh Arthur..." I couldn't tear my eyes away, as the clip played over and over. "No..."

Who was this cruel that they would make fun of someone with a mental illness on national TV?

"The fuck are you laughing at?" I snapped at one of the chefs who was chuckling as he watched the screen.

"Harley!" Ivy had entered the serving area in a hurry, her face a mask of panic. "There's two-- just now the--"

"Are you Harleen Quinzel?" Two men, one short and wide with very little neck, the other tall and thin and looked like the personification of watching paint dry, appeared behind me, holding up a pair of shiny badges.

"I... yes--"

"I'm Detective Burke, and this is Detective Garrity."

"You're a neighbor of a man named Arthur Fleck, correct?"

Oh fuck. These were the same guys that had come to Arthur's door earlier...

"I..." I hesitated. How much did they know? Should I lie and say no?

"Your silence speaks volumes Miss Quinzel." Garrity put a hand on my shoulder. "We're gonna need to take you back to the station for some questioning."

"I-- but... I'm working..." I looked around helplessly, my eyes landing on Ivy. She looked just as lost as I felt. Could I refuse? Or was that resisting arrest?

"Um... I... I'll get Mr Farrow..." Ivy suggested, hurrying into his office.

Farrow had absolutely no qualms with handing me over to the cops; if I didn't know any better he was anxious about having them sniff around the restaurant and wanted them out as soon as possible. I'd always suspected he was doing something shady...

I wasn't handcuffed, but I was taken to a police car parked just outside and I paused at the door. Should I run for it? I didn't want to tell them anything that could get Arthur into trouble. Detective Burke seemed to guess what I was thinking and gave me a stern look and a small push into the back seat.

"Don't do anything you'll regret, Miss Quinzel."

I scowled at him.

"We're going to make this easy for you." Garrity twisted around in the front seat as Burke drove off. "Tell us what we need to know, no gaps, and we'll have you home for dinner."

I folded my arms. "Look, I don't know what this is about, but I.. I'm telling you now: Arthur isn't the one you're looking for."

"Oh really? So I suppose you know a lot more about the subways murders than we do?" Garrity raised his eyebrows. "Hear that Burke? Maybe we should just let her take over the investigation."

"...S-subway murders?" I stared at him. _That's_ what this was about? Not about my attacker last night-? "You... you think it was Arthur that murdered those dickhe-- wayne enterprises employees?"

There was no way. Arthur? Sweet, innocent, quiet Arthur Fleck? He was slightly odd, sure, but in a well-meaning way. He looked after his sick mother. Ok, ok, I know he'd killed somebody the previous night but that was _different_... that was to protect me... it wasn't... he wasn't...

But what if he was?

A thrilling thought struck me. What if Arthur was my Knight in shining armor, my guardian angel? I knew he agreed with me about a lot of my views on these things but... could he be?

 _No_. I decided firmly. It wasn't possible.

I was hauled into a dark, bare room with just a metal table and a couple of chairs, which squealed against the floor as Detective Garrity pulled one out for me.

"Sit."

They sat opposite me, hands folded on the table in a way that I assumed was supposed to be intimidating.

"Miss Quinzel. What is your relationship with Arthur Fleck?"

"He's my neighbor."

"Right, we already know he's your neighbor. But he's not _just_ your neighbor is he? You have a something beyond that."

 _Deny everything._ I decided.

"No. I see him occasionally in the hall and we say hello, that's all."

"Strange... that's not what other people in your building tell us. 'Ask the woman in 3B.' They all say. 'She's always talking to Arthur.'" Burke leaned forward. " Now why would they say that?"

"I... they're probably mistaking me for someone else. Got the wrong apartment number."

"Right. I guess there are a lot of 'blonde, twenty-something waitress'es in your building to get mixed up with." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

"You talk a lot with Arthur Fleck, we've heard." Garrity chimed in. "Always talking in the hall. Even going in and out of each other's apartments. He always leaves shortly after you do, returns shortly before too. That is - unless you're returning together."

"We're just neighbors. Sometimes we meet at the elevator on our way home, it's just a coincidence. We have similar schedules."

"Coincidence. Of course."

"What is your opinion of Arthur, Miss Quinzel? Weird chap, most of his neighbors say. Quiet but strange."

"He's not--!" I swallowed, forcing myself to get a hold on my temper. "He's a perfectly nice man." I replied through pursed lips. "But like I said, I don't know him that well.

"Yes, so you keep saying."

"You know what I think?" Burke said. "I think you know him _very_ well. I think you and Arthur are close. Perhaps even romantically involved. Was he close enough that he would murder someone for you, I wonder?"

"Murder s-- _For_ me? What are you--"

"You are acquainted with the victims of the subway killings, are you not?"

I swallowed. I didn't see the point in lying; they already knew.

"I... My friend Ivy was dating one of them."

"Mm. And I have to say, you don't seem particularly upset that they're dead."

"I wasn't dating them. They weren't my friends. Obviously it's very tragic but why should I be more upset than anyone else?"

"Well you're right, we don't think you'd be upset. We have reason to believe you'd be pretty happy about it."

"And why's that?" I scowled.

Garrity seemed to be hoping I would ask; he jumped to his feet, pulling over a battered old TV set, and slotted a tape into the VCR. The quality wasn't great, but after a couple of seconds I recognized it as security camera footage from outside Lux. More specifically, footage of when I'd effectively kicked Pete's balls back up inside his body and slapped him for good measure.

"Now, forgive me for jumping to conclusions - but I'd say that's you."

My throat was dry. I made a vague "mhm" sound.

"Assaulting all three of the victims right before they were murdered seems like an awfully suspicious coincidence. You seemed to want to hurt them - very convenient for you that someone finished them off, wouldn't you agree?"

"Assaulting?! Are you kidding me? He tried to force himself on me, it was self defense!"

"Uh huh. Seems like you'd have a good reason to want those three out of your life."

"Well-- of course I did! But I wouldn't resort to _killing_ them! You say it was a coincidence but maybe they're just _that_ fucking awful that it was only a matter of time before someone ran out of patience with them!"

"It seems like _you_ ran out of patience with them, Miss Quinzel."

"I didn't kill them! I didn't-- I couldn't--"

"No, I don't think you could. But getting somebody _else_ to kill them - a little easier to swallow, isn't it?"

"You're insane." I folded my arms angrily. Why did it seem like these guys were _defending_ those pricks? When they'd seen a video of them harassing me?

"Maybe you thought, that Arthur Fleck - he's just crazy enough to commit murder. If you could just give him a little encouragement..."

"What did you offer him? Money? Sex? I'm sure lonely, single Arthur would do anything for attention from someone young and pretty like you"

I went bright red, glaring at Garrity. "Arthur didn't kill them." I hissed.

It went on and on like this; the questions lasted for hours, and kept coming back to the same thing - I was either in cahoots with Arthur, or had whored myself out to use him as a paid assassin. I couldn't tell what time it was because the room we were in had no windows, but it felt like it had been at least 5 hours. My stomach grumbled angrily.

"Well Miss Quinzel, I think we have enough for now." Garrity said finally, leaning back in his chair.

I breathed out, relieved. "I can go?"

"Well, back to your cell yes."

"W-what?! But I thought... you said I wasn't under arrest!"

It was with a nasty smile that Burke replied. "We had to change our minds on that. Based on our suspicions, we can't have you running off home to Arthur to warn him that we're on his tail."

"We'll need to keep you overnight, unfortunately." Garrity added, and he didn't look like he thought it was unfortunate at all.

* * *

Arthur had a pretty bad habit of deciding rather frequently that he was experiencing was the worst day of his life. _This is the worst day of my life,_ he'd think - then no more than a couple weeks later - _no **this** is by far the worst._

But boy, did he have a winner now. Truly, nothing could top this.

His head bumped against the window of the subway car as it hung helplessly off his shoulder. Inside his coat he clutched the patient file he'd stolen from Arkham Asylum, detailing his horrendous childhood. He was such a sad excuse for a human being. Nobody in his life had treated him with a shred of respect. His mother wasn't even his own mother. He was abandoned, forgotten, then picked up by a woman who just smiled and stood aside as he was repeatedly abused...

Arthur's will to live was slowly seeping out of him, and he didn't even try to hold onto it. What a fucking travesty of a life he had. It was so tragic that ultimately it was just _funny_. The only thing that kept him from stepping off the subway station platform was the anger, the hatred he felt for his mother, Thomas Wayne and hell, all of society. He wasn't even sure if his Harley, the only good thing in his entire fucking life, could make him feel better.

It was a little after the end of Harley's shift, but he knew she'd be waiting for him, even if he was a couple of minutes late. He dragged his feet as he approached the Gotham Griddle, barely able to care enough to put the effort into walking properly. But as he turned the corner onto 17th, he saw that the Griddle was already closed. The building leered at him, dark and empty, not an employee in sight - let alone Harley. He'd definitely told her to meet him here right? Maybe she was in the back, locking up?

It began to rain.

Thirty minutes later, and Arthur began to realize she wasn't coming. He was soaked, head to toe, and completely alone.

Had he imagined it all? Everything they'd had? He was sure she'd felt the same way but had it been entirely one-sided? Surely not. But really, what did he expect from her? How could he expect her to ruin her life to be with someone like him? She was like a bright, shining star, and he was going to drag her down into his black hole of a life? No... She deserved better.

Sunshine Estates seemed eerily empty, though maybe that was just a reflection of how Arthur felt inside. He pressed his ear to Harley's door. Was she home? It didn't sound like it.

The trouble with the doors in their building was... they weren't very secure. Arthur knew if he jiggled the handle just right and applied pressure to the door frame--

There was a pop, and Harley's door swung open.

Arthur had only been in Harley's apartment once, and at the time he'd been far more focused on her than any of her interior design. He looked around, slowly taking it all in. It was feminine, in a subtle way; she'd painted the walls a pale blue, and attempted to match the pinks of her cushions and other decor. He ran his hand along the wall as he entered her bedroom. She didn't even have a proper bed frame, just a mattress on a flimsy looking futon. Her pajamas were lying on the floor and Arthur picked them up, pressing them to his nose and inhaling her smell. There were several newspaper articles detailing the subway murders clipped to her mirror and a plastic clown mask hung just below. He returned to the front room, sinking slowly onto the sofa. His hair, sopping wet from the rain, dripped with a slow rhythm onto the floorboards, forming a puddle. Arthur stared at his pathetic reflection.

This was definitely the worst day of his life.

* * *

I was released in the afternoon the next day, much to the dismay of Garrity and Burke; apparently, without charges they couldn't hold me any more than twenty four hours. I positively _sprinted_ back to Sunshine Estates, reaching home in a record time of fifteen minutes door to door.

I hurried to Arthur's apartment.

"Arthur? Arthur! I need to talk to you!" I hit the door with my fist. "Arthur open up!"

_Fuck... where is he? Is he working?_

"Arthur are you there?" I pressed my ear to the door. Not a peep.

Reluctantly I scooted back to my apartment, wishing I had some way of contacting him. I was surprised to find my door unlocked; it was unlike me to leave it open, but I didn't see any evidence of forced entry, and nothing was missing. There were, however, wet trails leading to each of the rooms and a small drying puddle of water by the couch.

"Arthur...? Are you in here?"

But he wasn't. And I didn't see hide nor hair of him the rest of the night. I had to work the next day and spent the whole time anxiously glancing at the entrance to the Griddle, hoping Arthur would walk in. But it wasn't until yet the day after that he finally showed up. I was more on edge than I'd ever been in my life, throwing the door open every time I heard a floorboard creak, and I was trying to distract myself by getting ready for the protests later that day. I was applying a thick swoosh of eyeliner when there was a knock at the door.

In a flash, I wrenched it open, assuming it was Arthur, so not looking through the peephole first. But as I came face to face with the strangely flamboyant man standing in the hall, my first instinct was to slam the door in their face once more. _Who the fuck?_

He was dressed in bright scarlet suit - ill fitted - that clashed brilliantly with the green shirt and yellow vest peeking out of the front. His patchy, dyed green hair hung limply around his face which was stark white, detailed with a huge red grin and blue framed eyes. A clown?

I looked more closely at his painted face and did a double take.

"A-Arthur?"

It _was_ Arthur. But what was with the getup? I grabbed his jacket by the lapels and pulled him inside.

"Arthur what are you-- are you going to the protests? Look, you need to tell me what's going on, I just got back from the police station and--"

My words died in my throat, for Arthur had grabbed my face with two hands and kissed me even more forcefully than usual. It was a bruising kiss, as if he was starving and I was his only source of food. He forced his tongue inside my mouth and it wasn't clumsy and inexperienced like it had been previously; he tangled his tongue with mine and fought for control, and I relinquished it to him without hesitation. His intensity was to such a degree that I wondered if he'd been holding back in all of our previous encounters. Something definitely seemed different about his whole demeanor, as if he was no longer carrying around a heavy weight on his shoulders. I had so much to ask him, but I didn't mind waiting; there was time for 20 questions later.

I reached down to unbutton his fly but as soon as I'd got a grip on the fabric Arthur had grabbed my wrists, and he backed me up against the wall, pinning my arms above my head. Not two seconds later, he had ripped my shirt down the middle, and it hung loosely off my shoulders, exposing my torso. His hands reached behind my back, pulling at the clasp of my bra and forcing it open and then he lifted the cups up, letting my breasts fall against my chest, bare. I squirmed, whimpering as he put his mouth to my nipple, pulling the hard flesh with his lips and swirling his tongue around my areola, at the same time cupping the other breast and squeezing firmly. My pelvis lifted involuntarily towards him as my arousal increased and I wanted to undo his pants but my wrists were still trapped above my head.

"Arthur please..." I whimpered.

He lifted his head and his eyes met mine, and I searched his expression, which curled into a smirk.

My arms were released, and Arthur bent down, slowly, oh so _cruelly_ slow, hiking my skirt up my hips. Then with only his mouth, he grabbed the waistband of my panties and pulled them downwards, peeling them off me at a tortuous speed and apparently savoring every second of it. As he stood up he grinned cheekily at me, and it was such a beautiful, carefree grin, as though he'd suddenly dropped off all his problems with the trash in the street. Why did he seem so different, so at ease? It was as though his confidence had increased a thousand fold and I was a little blindsided by the charm he managed to exude even with a full face of clown makeup.

I wasn't willing to wait a second longer; I undid his pants, my hands shaking with desperation and anticipation. As I freed him he took hold of the underside of my thighs, lifting me up and positioning my legs around him. Using the wall for support he was able to suspend me with just one arm and the other was free to slip under my skirt. He ran a finger over my throbbing pussy and I bit my knuckles, muffling a loud moan. Arthur tugged my hand away.

"Don't. I want to hear you." He spoke into my ear, licking his lips.

"Arthur, please fuck me." I begged, needing to finally, _finally_ feel him inside me.

I registered the sensation of his manhood pushing into the top of my pubic bone and sucked in a breath just as he re-positioned and abruptly entered me. I let out a sharp gasp as my hips were thrown backwards and my butt hit into the wall. Arthur was gripping my thighs with an unrestrained vehemence, digging his nails into my flesh, and when I whimpered it was a mixture of pleasure and plain. I knotted my hands together at the back of his neck, pulling him closer, and he buried his face in my shoulder breathing sharply as he began to fuck me. He didn't hesitate; he started fast and I could feel his rhythm speed up rapidly as pushed harder and harder, going deeper each time. Every couple of thrusts ripped a moan out of me and my grip on him would tighten even more.

"O-oh god... Arthur... fuck!"

The vase by the door was shaking, the floorboards creaking. The only painting that I had up - a bad canvas of a flower that I'd done in high school - fell to the floor with a loud thump, but neither of us could've cared less. Arthur's hands were both gripping my hips now, using the additional strength in his arms to help crush our pelvises together.

All too soon I was reaching my peak, and couldn't have held it in even if I wanted to. I felt my walls clench around him, holding him in.

"F-Fuck... Arthur!" As I came I moaned his name at a volume the entire floor could probably hear, but I didn't care, I wanted him to know how he was making me feel, how fucking good the things he was doing to my body were. My exclamation seemed to tip him over the edge too and I squeezed my thighs tight against his hips as he unloaded inside me. His hand grabbed the back of my neck and his fingernails dug in as his climax hit in waves, gradually subsiding into smaller ripples until he became still, leaning his forehead against mine. His entire weight fell against me and in my overwhelmed state I couldn't hold him up; my back slid down the wall and we sank slowly to the floor, breathing heavily. My body was quivering with exhaustion and ecstasy. He was still holding me tight and I felt as though I would've been happy sitting with him there, crouched on the floor, legs wrapped around him, face pressed into his chest, forever.

But it wasn't to be; after a beat, Arthur stood up, pulling me up with him. He pushed my hair back behind my ear, licking the moisture off his red lips as he did up his pants.

"Here." Reaching into his pocket he thrust a colorful, but crumpled bouquet of fake flowers at me, along with an envelope. "I need to get going."

"Wait, already? Going where? Can't you stay for a little--"

Arthur kissed me again, and I accepted the kiss hungrily, but it wasn't as long as I wanted. I knew it was just a method of distraction.

"Read the letter." He said, prying my hand off his arm.

"Arthur-- wait!"

The door slammed behind him and I stared at it, confused. Why did that goodbye feel so... final? Like I wasn't going to see him again?

I ripped open the envelope, hoping there would be some answers contained inside. A large number of 100-dollar bills fell onto my lap.

 _What is he...?_ My panic grew. Why was he giving me money? And it seemed like a lot... Were these all his savings? Where was he going? I unfolded the accompanying letter.

_Harley_ ,

It started. Arthur's writing was an untidy scrawl and there were ink blots all over the paper.

_This is all the ~~munee~~ muney I have. I know its not much, but it should help you get a beter place than this shithole. Maybe a place near your friend so you dont have to walk home late alone. _   
_Meeting you was the best thing that ever hapened to me. But its probably the worst thing that hapened to you. Im no good for you. Find somebody who can give you the ~~live~~ life you deserve._

__

_I love you._

_Arthur._

I read the last line again, gulping thickly. He... he loved me? But he didn't think he was good for me? I felt a surge of anger. He was deciding that _now_? After I resisted him for so long, saying the same thing, now, _now_ , when I was already falling so painfully head over heels, now he decided we wouldn't work? I crumpled up the letter, slamming the door as I left my apartment. If I thought I was just going to stay away because of this, boy was he wrong.

"Arthur!" I banged my fist on the door. "Arthur!"

Under the pressure of my thumps, the door, which was apparently unlocked, swung open.

"A-- huh?" I ventured inside, cautiously. "Arthur...? O-Oh my god..."

Just inside the entryway, the wall was splattered with a huge blotch of blood. It was still wet in some places with small drops crawling slowly down the walls like an angry red sun.

"What the fuck..." I breathed. "...Arthur? Are you in here?"

Concern gnawed at the back of my mind. Giving me money... a sentimental letter... blood on the walls... what I was realizing now was a goodbye fuck? Something bad was going to happen. I searched every room as quick as I could, trying not to panic. I found nothing of note, aside from a very green sink; wherever Arthur was, he wasn't home.

I ran to the stairway, hopping down three at a time. "Arthur? Arthur!" I was still calling his name as I emerged from Sunshine Estates, hoping I would catch him smoking a cigarette outside, but the street was empty; I was too late.

He was already gone.


	13. Chapter 13

After I realized Arthur had gone, I ran back to my apartment and gathered up my stuff as fast as I could before heading to Ivy's. She answered the door, a little bewildered at my urgency as I pushed my way inside.

"Hey Harles! Uh... are you okay?"

"Ivy I... I don't know what to do! I need to find Arthur but I-- I think he's gonna-- I don't know where-- fuck! I just--" In my distress I was struggling to get the words out and I'd all but sprinted to her place so my heart was hammering against my rib cage.

"Harley, Jesus, calm down." Ivy forced me down onto the couch. "Breathe. What happened?"

"I... I just... I-I saw Arthur just before-- just now and he seemed really off..." I struggled to slow down and get the words out. "H-he... he gave me a letter, look-" I thrust the paper at her, thinking it would be easier if she just read it.

Ivy took it and scanned the page, her eyes widening more and more the farther she got. "Savings...? He-- ...oh damn Harley..."

"I just-- Why would he do that? It sounds like- like he's saying goodbye to me! Who writes a letter like that unless they're not planning to see someone again?! Ivy I'm scared, what if he hurts himself or-- I don't know! I tried to find him, I thought maybe he was going to the protests but they don't start for another two hours and I don't know where else to look and I just--"

"Harley, Harley, chill. Look at me. Panicking isn't going to help." Ivy grabbed my hand. "I know this seems weird, but you're not going to get anywhere by freaking out. Let's think about this rationally. You think he's going to hurt himself? Then maybe we should call the police? They could be on the look out for him?"

"No I-- I don't want to get the police involved..." Not after hearing what the detectives suspected. Maybe he fled because they were looking for him still?

"Why? If it's for his own safety--"

"No Ivy, not an option."

"Ugh Harley... I'm starting to regret encouraging you to pursue this guy. He seems unstable. And he seems like he's making _you_ unstable!"

"I'm fine." I lied, trying to look like I was calming down.

"Look, you said you think he's going to be at the protests, how about we just relax here, then when they start you can go look for him there? You just need to stay calm. Let's watch some TV or something."

I knew Ivy was just trying to distract me, but I was grateful for it; it was so terrible feeling like I couldn't do anything, I felt so powerless.

Ivy flipped through the channels absent-mindedly as she examined her nails. "Maybe you can help me reapply some polish too, I've already chipped it..."

_"--This is exactly how I imagined it--"_

"Wait wait, go back!!" I leaped towards the TV as Ivy returned to the previous channel. I would've recognized that voice anywhere.

"You wanna watch Murray Franklin?" Ivy asked, a little confused.

I dropped to my knees in front of the TV, putting a hand on the screen next to the scarlet figure sitting on Murray's couch. "That...I don't believe it... that's Arthur..."

"What are you talking about?" Ivy sat down next to me, and she seemed to not believe me either. " _That's_ Arthur? _Your_ Arthur? In the... clown getup? Are you sure?"

"Positive..." I breathed.

"Well what is he doing on Murray Franklin? And what the hell is he wearing? Is this something to do with the protests you've been going to?"

I shook my head to indicate Ivy to be quiet, but I didn't know the answers either. Why _was_ he on the show? After Murray humiliated him by playing that clip, why would he risk that happening again? Surely he'd brought him on to make fun of him more, maybe Arthur didn't realize that? Arthur certainly looked very relaxed and happy (though admittedly it was hard to disassociate his big, painted smile from his real expression), so either he was blissfully unaware of what he was in for or he had a plan.

_"--when we spoke earlier you mentioned that this look is not a political statement is that right?"_

_"That's right Murray I'm not political. I'ma just tryin' to make people laugh."_

It wasn't? So it wasn't for the protests? Then what?

_"And hows that going for you?"_

The audience all laughed jovially, laughing at Arthur. I ground my teeth in irritation. Murray was already making fun of him. This was just going to be a whole show of cheap shots at Arthur's expense. Why was he allowing it? I was expecting Arthur to be angry or upset, but he just laughed - and it was in a way that just seemed like he was mocking them right back. Maybe Arthur did know what he was doing here? But what was his goal? To tell Murray off?

_"Now I know you're a comedian. Have you been working on any new material? Want to tell us a joke?"_

Arthur looked at the audience with enthusiasm.

_"Yeah? Okay."_

Arthur grinned and sat forward on his seat eagerly. It was that beautiful, bewitching smile again and I swallowed anxiously. I could tell what Murray was trying to do with this bit and I didn't want to see the smile wiped of Arthur's face. Arthur pulled out a crumpled notebook.

_"He's got a book. A book of jokes."_

Arthur stared down at the book and it was as though he couldn't tear his eyes away. What he was thinking? Was he planning something?

_"Take your time, we've got all night."_

_"Okay, okay, here's one. Knock knock."_

_"And you had to look that up?"_

There was more raucous laughter and applause and my anger doubled. Fucking Murray Franklin, oh he was enjoying it so much, wasn't he? Kicking someone while they were down, making fun of them for something they couldn't control? The audience too, they were just as bad. How could this be considered entertainment?

_"I want to get it right. ...Knock knock"_

_"Who's there?"_

_"It's the police m'aam. Your son's been hit by a drunk driver. He's dead."_

Arthur started laughing but the supporting band played a waa-waaaa sound and Dr Sally chastised him angrily.

_"Oh no no no, no you cannot joke about that!"_

_"Yeah that's not funny Arthur, that's not the kind of humor we do on this show."_

I scoffed. Oh and Murray's kind of humor was _soo_ much better? I was glad Arthur was derailing Murray's plans somewhat, or at least making him look bad.

_"Okay, I'm.. yeah I'm sorry. It's just... you know... it's been a rough few weeks Murray."_

Arthur laughed. _"...ever since I..." He looked at the audience "...killed those three wall street guys."_

I dropped what I was holding.

_Killed those--?_

No way.

"D-did he just say...?" Ivy asked hoarsely.

"I think so..." I whispered.

_"Okay I'm waiting for the punchline."_

But I could already tell Arthur wasn't joking.

_"There is no punchline. It's not a joke."_

I swallowed hard, trying to process the information. So it was Arthur after all... _he_ killed Donny, Jeffrey and Pete? The detectives were right? No way... But that meant... that meant it was Arthur all along. _He_ was my knight in shining armor, my guardian angel... kind, sweet Arthur. He was the one who had solved all my problems? This man that I was already falling for... was it really him? Had I misheard? It was too good to be true, it was everything I wanted...

A lump developed in my throat as a thought struck me: why was he admitting it? On _live TV_ no less? Didn't he care about the repercussions?

_"...You're serious, aren't you? You're telling us you killed those three young men on the subway? And why should we believe you?"_

Arthur shrugged.

_"I've got nothing left to lose. Nothing can hurt me anymore. My life is nothing but a comedy."_

"Wh--" I opened my mouth to reply ' _What about me_?', momentarily forgetting that I wasn't talking to him directly. I felt a sharp pang of pain in my heart. Did he not care about losing me? Was I nothing? Or did he feel like he already lost me? What, because he'd decided he was 'letting me go' or whatever he was trying to say in his letter? I scowled angrily at the pixelated figure in front of me.

The audience was booing loudly but Arthur seemed unfazed. Murray addressed him disapprovingly.

_"Let me get this straight. You think killing those guys is funny?"_

_"I do. And I'm tired of pretending it's not."_

I looked at Ivy, wondering how she was taking this. This man that she'd actively been encouraging me to pursue, was the one who'd murdered her ex-boyfriend? She'd seemed to be doing well recently, and she'd even admitted to me that she was glad Pete was gone but... if I'd been completely blindsided by this information I couldn't imagine what she'd be thinking. Whatever it was though, she didn't reveal it; she was just staring at the screen with rapt attention, as if waiting to see what else he would admit to.

Arthur was continuing with his tirade.

_"Comedy is subjective Murray. Isn't that what they say? All of you, the system that knows so much, you decide what's right and what's wrong, the same way you decide what's funny or not."_

_"Well ok... I think I might understand that you did this... to start a movement?"_

_"Come on Murray, do I look like the kind of clown who could start a movement? I killed those guys because they were awful."_

I clenched my fist in agreement. They were absolutely awful. Arthur must've recognized it that night on the subway, and he actually did something about it. He was amazing.

_"Everybody is awful these days. It's enough to make anyone crazy."_

_"So that's it, you're crazy, that's your defense for killing three young men?"_

_"No... They couldn't hold a tune to save their lives!"_

I couldn't suppress a snicker, and Ivy looked at me as if I was batshit insane. Well, maybe I was a little.

_"Oh, why is everybody so upset about these guys?"_

Arthur rolled his eyes and I agreed with the sentiment. Why _was_ everyone so upset about them? Anybody who actually knew them properly knew they were pricks.

_"If it was me dying on the sidewalk you'd walk right over me. I pass you every day and you don't notice me, but these guys, what because Thomas Wayne cried about them on TV?"_

Listening to his words, I realized there were tears pricking in my eyes. Walk right over him? Is this what he really thought?

_I wouldn't, Arthur... I notice you..._ I thought sadly.

But Murray had no sympathy.

_"You have a problem with Thomas Wayne too?"_

_"Yes I do. Have you seen what it's like out there Murray? Do you ever actually leave the studio? Everybody just yells and screams at each other. Nobody's civil anymore! Nobody thinks what it's like to be the other guy. You think men like Thomas Wayne ever think what it's like to be someone like me, to be someone but themselves? They don't. They think that we'll just sit there and take it, like good little boys. That we won't WEREWOLF and go WILD!"_

_"You finished? I mean it's so much self pity, Arthur, you sound like you're making excuses for killing those young men."_

But he was wrong, it wasn't self-pity, it was anger, I could see it in his eyes. He was furious. Something bad was going to happen.

_"Not everybody, and I'll tell you this, not everyone is awful."_

Arthur turned to look at Murray once more and it was with such hatred in his eyes that I almost recoiled.

_"You're awful murray."_

_"Me? I'm awful? Oh yeah how am I awful?"_

Arthur's lip was trembling, and it curled as he spoke.

_"Playing my video. Inviting me on the show. You just wanted to make fun of me."_

Even though he spoke quietly, slowly, Arthur's expression was exuding rage. I'd never seen him so angry and I hoped I never would again. I vowed that I would never do anything to make Arthur look at me like that.

_"You don't know the first thing about me pal. Look what happened because of what you did, what it led to. There are riots out there. Two policemen are in critical condition and you're laughing. You're laughing. Someone was killed today because of what you did."_

_"I know."_ Arthur didn't seem to feel guilty in the slightest; in fact he put his hand in the air as if to say, _I did and I'm proud of it_. He was smiling, but it didn't reach his eyes; as he turned to Murray once more I could see he was barely holding it together.

_"How about another joke Murray?"_

_"No I think we've had enough of your jokes."_

I was clutching Ivy's arm so hard my knuckles were going white. The anger emanating from Arthur was undeniable and I knew something bad was about to happen. And Murray hadn't even noticed. How could he not sense the hatred coming from Arthur's eyes?

_"What do you get-"_

_"I don't think so."_

_"When you cross-"_

_"I think we're done."_

_"-a mentally ill loner, with a SOCIETY that ABANDONS HIM and TREATS HIM LIKE TRASH!?"_

_"Call the police Gene"_

_"I'll tell you what you get. You get what you FUCKING DESERVE!"_

_BANG_

Ivy screamed.

_BANG, BANG_

Murray was dead, but that didn't stop Arthur from firing two more shots spitefully into his corpse before flinging the gun on the desk. He stood up, wiping his hands on his pants and pacing undecidedly back and forth on the stage. Seeing the camera still point towards him, he danced towards it, grabbing the front with both hands.

_"Goodnight, and always remember, that's li--"_

The screen blanked.

"...Oh my God... Oh my God..." Ivy was making dents in my arm with her fingernails. "What the fuck just-- Oh my God Harley... what the actual fuck..."

"Holy shit..." I exclaimed quietly, letting out a breath I'd been holding for what felt like the entire show.

My first thought: relief. Not what you would expect, I know.

But from the weird goodbye, giving me his money, saying he had nothing left to lose - I'd honestly thought Arthur was going to kill himself.

But he didn't. And God was I relieved, I was so relieved.

But then came anger. He wasn't dead, but... he'd admitted to murder. And then murdered yet another person on live TV. He wasn't dead, but he was going to rot in jail for the _rest of his life_. For the rest of _my_ life! Is that what he'd been planning all along? He knew he was going to be put away forever, that's why he had nothing left to lose? How could he do that to me? To _us_? When I'd finally found someone who wanted me as much as I wanted them, he had to ruin it?

I started pulling on my jacket, struggling to get my arms in the holes because I was shaking so much.

"Harley-- what are you doing?"

"I have to go."

"What? Go where?"

I snatched my wallet up from the kitchen table. "I have to go- to see if-- maybe if I--"

"Harley, slow down--"

"Ivy I have to go find him."

Ivy's eyes nearly popped out of her head. "Go _find_ him?! Are you insane? He just-- he fucking shot somebody!"

"He was just... he was angry." I murmured, distracted. I didn't have time to talk about this now. "Where's the pepper spray I gave you?"

"In my purse but-- _wait_ , Harley!"

I dodged around her and grabbed the small canister from the bottom of her bag, stuffing it inside my bra along with my wallet.

"Where do you even think you'll find him? He'll be with the cops! They won't let you see him!"

"Maybe I can bail him out or something." I honestly had no idea where I was going or what I was going to do but I knew I had to go, I had to try. I needed to tell him how fucking angry I was and that I was rejecting his proposal to find somebody 'better' for me. 

"Harley, why don't you just sit down and--"

"I'll call you when I can." I threw the front door open and hurried out, slamming it behind me before Ivy could object any further.

I reached the road and realized I needed to have some idea of where I was going. Maybe to the studio? No... it wasn't far, but he'd surely be long gone by then. The police station would be my best bet. I set off at a run.

As I hurried down the now lamp-lit streets, Arthur's words reverberated painfully through my head.

_"If it was me dying on the sidewalk you'd walk right over me!"_

_"I've got nothing left to lose."_

_"Nothing can hurt me anymore."_   
_"A SOCIETY that ABANDONS HIM and TREATS HIM LIKE TRASH!?"_

Did he really think all of these things? I wished he'd felt like he could've talked to me about it... though with all my inner turmoil I hadn't exactly made myself approachable. Fuck. I cursed myself for being so afraid. Finally I found somebody I actually cared about and I almost ruined it because I was scared.

And this 'Joker' persona, what was that about? Was it weird that I found him... ridiculously charming? Seeing him on the show, just the way he moved, the way he licked his lips and spoke so mischievously - if I hadn't been so concerned that he was going to kill himself I would've needed to dunk my head in cold water. He was just so... confident, so cheeky, so carefree. Joker... is that how Arthur wanted to be known from now on? Was that his new self?

Well, that was fine with me. I would take either, both even. I wanted all of him. I just wanted _him_.

"What the-"

The protests weren't due to start for another thirty minutes but I apparently hadn't got the memo that they'd started early. As I rounded the corner onto 19th I was met by a gigantic wave of noise: sirens, screams, yells, fire, glass smashing, horns honking. It was carnage. There was a huge _CRASH_ in the distance accompanied by cheering. The number of people on the street was more than I'd seen at any protest before and they were all in my way. If I wanted to get to the police station I'd have to force my way through a sea of rioting humans, somehow managing to not get knocked unconcious or killed. I noticed an abandoned baseball bat on the floor and picked it up; it felt comfortable in my palm and weighted just enough that I felt like I could do some damage with it. I gave it a test swing. Ok, it probably wasn't the first weapon I'd pick, but it was all I had to choose from. I began to push through the crowd, looking for gaps and avoiding anyone brandishing anything sharp or on fire. Most people were generally causing carnage and doing their own thing, but as I reached an empty area, I noticed a massive bundle of people on the road facing away from me. Everyone was crowding around something, cheering and hollering. What the fuck was everyone looking at? I wasn't tall enough to see over peoples heads so I could only push forward, through the herd of protesters, earning angry shoves and curses from the people I forced out of the way.

"YEAH! You get what you fucking deserve!!" A guy near me yelled out.

"FUCK THOMAS WAYNE!"

"FUCK MURRAY FRANKLIN!"

Murray Franklin?

I was nearing the front now and I caught a glimpse of what everyone was circled around - a police car that was smashed to pieces, and a man, dancing on top of it.

My eyes widened as I saw a flash of bright red, yellow and green.

"A-Arthur... that's... Arthur!" I scrambled forwards. "Arthur! ARTHUR!!" I began to scream his name, but knew he couldn't hear me over the absolute uproar of noise that surrounded me. I was pushing people more aggressively now, desperate to get through. Somebody grabbed me around the waist and I swung the bat around my head with as much strength as I could muster, hearing a crack as I made contact with their skull. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY-- ARTHUR!" My voice was growing hoarse and I wasn't sure how many people I had pissed off but at last I reached the center of the circle.

"Arthur!!" I broke away from the crowd and ran across the clearing, still calling his name. I threw the bat to the ground just as, _finally_ he saw me; I ran towards him as he hopped down from the car hood and threw my arms around him.

"Arthur! Arthur..." I dug my fingers tight into his jacket as I embraced him, as if scared he was going to get away from me again. I was so glad I'd reached him, I was so happy to hold him but... a wave of fury washed over me once more and I raised my head to look at him.

"Arthur what-- why did you do this?" I wanted to shake him. "Why- why did you tell everyone? Did you _want_ to go to jail? What about me? W-what about us?!" I pounded my fists against his chest in frustration and I suddenly realized there were tears streaming down my cheeks. I wiped them away fiercely. Crying _again_ , the second time in a week? What was it about this man, this stupid, wonderful man, that enabled my emotions get the better of me?

"Arthur I don't care, what you decided, what you think I _want_..." I sniffed angrily. "You- you're wrong..." I twisted my fingers into his jacket. "I don't want someone else, someone _better_ for me whatever that means... I want.." I paused, and reached up to touch his cheek. "I want you, Arthur. Joker. I love you." And despite my words I was still scowling at him, tears splashing down my front, mascara smeared down my face.

Arthur looked at me for a second, head tilted. And then he grinned, that wide, dazzling grin. He lifted his hands to his face and touched his lips before hooking his fingers around the back of my jaw, and using his thumbs to spread a big, bloody smile that extended from the corners of my mouth, matching his own. I let out a tearful laugh.

And then he pulled my face towards him and kissed me, and everything else melted away.

The crowd, cheering and hollering, the roaring flames and the smashing glass, all faded, and it was just me and Arthur.

But then...

_BLAM_

I fell into the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha sorry for basically typing out the entire Murray scene but it's such a good scene. And gave me an excuse to watch it again LOL.
> 
> Estimating ~2 or 3 chapters left in the story! Though I might do a couple of one shot/epilogue chapters because i'm not ready to let this pairing go :P


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, long time no update! Life has been a bit hectic recently but things are calming down and I'm back to writing again :)

"Hello? ...yes this is she. ...Yes... Oh really? That's fantastic! ...Yes right away! Monday morning. ...Of course! Thank you so much! ...I understand. ...Can't wait. ...Yes. Thanks again!"

I hung up the phone, turning to Ivy who was lounging on the sofa, polishing her nails. "Ivy I got that cleaning job!"

" _Cleaning_ job?"

"Yeah you know, the one in Arkham!"

"Oh." Ivy was tight-lipped. "That one."

It was just over a year and a half I'd been trying to get a position at Arkham Asylum. A year and a half! I wasn't even looking for anything fancy, I wasn't trying to become a doctor without qualifications or anything like that, just a desk job - a receptionist, or admin, filing papers or something. Any time I spotted anything in the want ads in the newspaper I'd applied, but although they had open positions fairly frequently (Arkham seemed to have a pretty high staff turnover for some reason) I hadn't even been contacted back for any of them. It wasn't until now that my persistence had paid off and I'd landed a position as cleaning staff. I know it doesn't sound glamorous, but in retrospect it was actually just right for what I was trying to achieve.

Oh... I should probably fill in the gap a little huh?

So... Joker and I... there we were, in a circle of complete chaos, pressed together, holding each other tight. In that moment I wasn't seeing, wasn't thinking of anything but him. But that was when the riot police came.

I didn't notice them mowing down the rest of the protesters and as soon as they had a clear shot they tore Arthur and I apart and tackled us both to the ground. I blacked out when my head hit the asphalt - I only know what happened from seeing it on TV a little later. We were hauled into separate police cars and taken straight to the station.

Joker was thrown into Arkham following a very brief trial. I guess when there is video evidence of you murdering someone you don't have much of a defense in court.

I was charged with rioting, vandalism and arson, as were many of the other protesters, which was bullshit; I hadn't done anything except try and find Arthur.

Luckily, Ivy's landlord was a lawyer. A little advice from him and some bail money from Arthur's savings, and I somehow managed to escape with no criminal charges, despite being caught locking lips with the most notorious criminal of the decade. Thankfully that wasn't a crime in itself.

So I was free... but... what good was that if I didn't have Arthur? I needed him free, I needed him with me.

And I hadn't made any headway until now. A year and a half. A fucking year and a half - that's how long it took me to get a job at Arkham Asylum. And as a cleaner no less! If it was supposed to be such a shit hole, why were they so fucking selective about their employees?

Getting hired there was the backup plan of course, I'd tried to just _visit_ him, maybe figure out a way to slip him a weapon, a key, something. But high security patients, they apparently didn't get the privilege of visitors. I was sure they weren't even delivering my letters, despite the bitchy receptionist insisting they did. Anyway, at least now I had a way in. That was the first step.

To say Ivy disapproved of all this was an understatement. She felt she was personally responsible for "driving me into the arms of a psychopath". For some reason she assumed I would just forget about Arthur when he was carted off to Arkham, despite noticing how head over heels I was already becoming prior to his appearance on Murray Franklin.

At first, she tried reasoning with me, appealing to my "better judgement" as she said. Then, she tried setting me up with new guys, conjuring them out of thin air when we went out for drinks, dinner, even bringing them over to our apartment. When that didn't work it kinda descended into her physically trying to restrain me from doing anything related to Arthur but it didn't last long; I'd always been stronger and more agile than her.

Her latest tactic was to just stop listening to me anytime I talked about him. I'm not sure how she was expecting this to deter me; honestly it was nice having a break from her constant disapproval. She stared pointedly in another direction as I told her about the phone call.

"--And I know a cleaning position isn't going to necessarily get me access to the high security areas, but if I can see where they're keeping Joker, see his schedule, it'll be a lot easier to devise some kind of plan."

"Why do you keep calling him that?" Ivy snapped suddenly.

"What?"

"You _know_ what. 'Joker'." She air quoted with her fingers scathingly. "That's not his name."

"It's how he wanted to be introduced on Murray Franklin."

"So? Don't tell me you _liked_ that? You're in love with this psychotic alter-ego of his too?"

"I'm in love with him, whatever he wants to be called."

"My god." Ivy pinched the bridge of her nose. "Come _on_ Harley, it's time to stop. It's time to get over it! Have a good cry, eat some ice cream, fuck a few other guys, something that _normal_ people do, whatever it takes to get you to move the fuck on!"  
"I don't need to move on, because it's not over." I replied calmly.  
The fact that I wasn't getting riled up seemed to annoy Ivy even more. "You think he's not gonna forget about you in there Harley? He'll be away for years, you think he's gonna want you still when he's out? He's going to be an old fucking man and you'll have wasted most of your life chasing someone who doesn't give a damn. He's done using you, why can't you see that?"

"He wasn't using me." I said quietly. "He loves me. And I'm getting him out. Soon."

Ivy threw her hands up in exasperation. "You're both nuts." She muttered, standing up and leaving the room, going back to her tactic of just avoiding the conversation. I rolled my eyes. She would come around eventually; she was just being dramatic.

I guess Ivy wasn't _entirely_ wrong, maybe I had gone a little crazy - I was certainly obsessed, and I guess I couldn't blame her for getting sick of the fact that Arthur was all I'd been able to talk about since he'd been put away. But that's what love is supposed to do to you right? That's what she'd kept telling me before. A little crazy, was just the same thing as passion, right?

As much as Ivy wanted to be no part of this, we now lived together, so she couldn't really escape it. I know I put her through a lot of worry and frustration, but I knew she wouldn't leave. I was paying most of the rent and it was for a much nicer place than she could afford normally, and besides that, I was paying for her tuition. Yup, tuition -- she'd also quit working at the griddle and was pursuing a degree in Biosciences, something she'd wanted to do for I think as long as I knew her.

And yeah that's right - I was no longer poor!

I'd never really cared about chasing riches, but it sure was better than living in the total poverty I'd experienced most of my life. Not worrying about not being able to eat for the week, not feeling guilty about buying cute clothes, living in a place that didn't have the water shut off once a week - that was pretty nice. How did I do it? Well... not exactly legally. Turns out, I was kinda good at being a criminal.

It sort of started through some people I'd met through the protests; they had their own little crime ring in which they committed blackmail, extortion, that kind of thing. It was honestly out of desperation that I resorted to partaking myself - I really needed some cash in order to get the ball rolling on breaking Arthur out. Along the way, though, I happened to discover I had a certain skill when it came to fraud.

Tricking people. Conning people. That's where I had real talent. And I really began to rake in the money. I didn't con just anybody though; you wouldn't catch me tricking a poor lonely old lady into transferring all her funds into a "new, state-of the-art secure bank account", fuck no. Just because I was a criminal doesn't mean I was a dick. No, it was the elite that I targeted: the bankers, the politicians, the corrupt law enforcers. Of course, my personal favorite were Wayne Enterprises employees. I preyed on their weaknesses; their lust, their desire for power, but most of all their overinflated egos. And I was fucking _great_ at it. 

The criminal underworld also had it's perks; I made a lot of useful contacts that I would need if I was going to pull off something as large scale as an Arkham breakout. I started planning as soon as I was out of jail. Gotham's justice system was so predictable; of course they'd just throw Joker into Arkham. Well, even though it had taken me nearly two years, I was ready to put my plan into motion.

* * *

"Morning Hank." I dropped a coffee on the security guards desk, smacking him on the shoulder to wake him up from his snooze.

"Oh- hey Hailey." He grunted. "Thanks for the coffee sweetheart."

Hailey-- that was my fake name. Not super foolproof I know, but it was just to make sure they didn't connect me with the letters I'd been sending Arthur and suspect anything. I'd been bringing Hank a coffee pretty much every day trying to befriend him - he was my gateway to cameras, keys, security codes, you name it.

I'd been working at Arkham for nearly a month already, and I was no closer to my goal. Much to my surprise, Arkham seemed to have its shit together when it came to security. There was a strict check-in-check-out policy for the keys and apparently I was only trusted to clean the doctors' offices and public areas like the cafeteria. I didn't get to see many patients at all, let alone those in high security. It had been an incredibly boring few weeks. But I knew this had to change soon; _somebody_ had to clean the high security areas, and if staff turnover at Arkham was as high as it appeared to be, it was just a matter of biding my time.

Around the third week I did confirm one thing however; Arthur definitely wasn't getting my letters. 

"Hey, Hailey check this out." David, one of the receptionists, held up some opened envelopes to me as I scrubbed the shelves of the dingy little staff refrigerator.

"What's that?"

"Letters to some of the patients here. I tell you, some of the things these people send." He refiled through the pile. "One of my favorites is this girl Harley -- thinks she's in love with that killer clown."

"...Joker."

"Yeah that guy." He pulled out the letter, scanning it quickly. "Look at this: 'I know I'll be reunited with you soon', 'You're the love of my life', 'I can't wait to feel your hands on me again', sheesh, half these people should be locked up in here with 'em."

I sucked my teeth, trying to get a hold on my desire to sucker punch the goofy smile off his face.

"And look what she included in this one!" He pulled a pair of panties out of the envelope, bringing them to his nose and inhaling deeply. 

"Don't touch them!" I snarled before I could stop myself.

Hank looked at me, eyebrows raised; my arm was outstretched ready to snatch the underwear off him and there was an angry scowl on my face.

"Uh--" I tried to play it off as though I was reaching for my coffee on the desk. "I mean-- dude, that's gross. You don't know where they've been! Like you said, they're nuts, who knows what they're into." I forced a laugh and he seemed placated.

"Eh, they smell okay to me." He grinned, stuffing them into his back pocket.

I clenched my fists and swallowed, forcing myself to calm down.

"Kinda sad isn' it?" David picked up the pile of envelopes once more. "That they think the wackos in here are in the position to read and reply to mail? As if we'd actually deliver it." And with a swift movement he'd tossed all of the letters into the garbage by his feet.

It wasn't until around week seven that I noticed I had a new floor on my schedule.

"Oof." Hank remarked, looking over my shoulder as I requested the new set of keys. "Floor four? That's where all of the real psychos are kept. The murderers. The ones who tried to kill their families then killed themselves. You're going to be cleaning up blood and shit all afternoon."

Murderers? Then... did that mean? I didn't dare get my hopes up. 

Hank had assured me it would be rough work, and boy was he right; I didn't know what went on in these rooms but I'd cleaned up more bodily fluids in a few days than I think I'd even _seen_ my entire life. My second day on floor four I was graced with a room that only had some spilled tea and some garbage; a nice break from being knee-deep in fecal matter. It looked like a small little lecture room, with chairs spaced around a huge glass window that took up an entire wall. The window looked into a stark white room with just two chairs, sitting opposite sides of a small table. I got to work picking up garbage and turned on the vacuum, humming a tune to myself.

 _There_. I shut off the vacuum cleaner. Much quicker when I didn't need to get the mop and gloves out.

I heard voices and looked up. Had people entered the room next door and I hadn't noticed? As I approached the two-way mirror I could just about make out what they were saying.

"--what's so funny?"

"Just thinking of a joke."

_That voice..._

I leapt forward, pressing my clammy palms to the glass, awestruck and full of longing.

_It was..._

"Arthur..." I breathed aloud.

At last.

He looked... well. Or better than I'd imagined at least. I felt simultaneously relieved and - I'm ashamed to admit it - disappointed. I'd had awful visions of them beating him, subjecting him to electric shocks, starving him, all the rumors of things I heard they did at this dreadful place and I was worried he wouldn't be in one piece. He wasn't any thinner than he'd ever been though, and he even had a slight smirk on his face. All in all, it looked like he wasn't having a _terrible_ time. I knew I should only be happy about this... but deep down there was this small shameful part of my heart that wanted him to be falling apart without me. _I_ was barely keeping it together. As much as I'd accomplished, it was all just for him, to be with him again, that was the only reason I had any motivation whatsoever, but he... he seemed to be doing fine?

Another thought that had been filed away deep, buried, forbidden, floated to the front of my mind. Why hadn't he tried to break out? Did he not want to see me as much as I wanted to see him? He'd been locked away for over a year and nothing, not even an attempt? Was it because he didn't need me? Or was it the same nonsense that he didn't think he was good for me?

I stared at him, drinking in his form, and just knowing that he was there, that I didn't just imagine him, it relaxed me once more. How could I doubt him? Of course he couldn't break out, it was impossible. Locked away in the highest security cell and restrained 24/7, what did I expect him to do?

That's why he needed me. I was going to get him out, bring him back to me.

Arthur was smoking, a cigarette balanced precariously in his shackled hands. He wasn't looking at the woman in front of him - a psychiatrist I presumed - rather, he seemed entertained by his own thoughts, as if remembering a joke. He wasn't as clean shaven as I was used to (but I kinda liked the stubble), and he was wearing white regulation scrubs, the staple of Arkham patients. I wished I could reach through the glass and touch him. I wanted to feel his arms around me again, feel his hair tickle my face, his breath on my neck. It seemed so cruel that he was so close, yet he might as well have been halfway across the world. He couldn't see me, and judging by the fact I'd been vacuuming loudly and they hadn't noticed, he couldn't hear me either. I could only watch, and wait.

I knew I was going to have to work double speed to get the rest of my rooms cleaned up on time - the last thing I wanted was to get fired before I had time to enact my plan - but I just couldn't seem to tear myself away. I felt a deep-seated sense of desperation when a pair of orderlies finally came to escort him away; I dashed out of the room in an attempt to see him exit but the other side was separated from me by a heavy white metal door, and I could only just see the top of Arthur's head retreating as I stood on my tip-toes and looked through the bars.

Although my whole plan was to break Arthur out and therefore see him however much I wanted, I couldn't resist returning repeatedly to the observation room, hoping to catch a glimpse of him again. After a roller coaster of disappointment and excitement I managed to deduce he was taken there every Tuesday and Thursday at the same time. I knew I was just torturing myself, subjecting myself to this situation where I could look but not touch, listen but not be acknowledged, but I couldn't stop myself from showing up there every time, five minutes early, ready and waiting to see him.

I needed to break him out soon or I was going to go insane.

It wasn't until around 3 weeks later that the opportunity finally came. I was hanging in the security office with Hank when a woman I recognized as the asylum manager came bustling up to me.

"Oh hey-- you-- Hailey is it? We need you to pick up an extra shift tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yes, yes, tonight, that's what I said." She rolled her eyes impatiently. "We're stupidly short staffed because _everybody_ seems to conveniently have the flu at the same time." She finished the sentence by glaring at me as if this was somehow my fault. "Anyway, can you do it?"

"Yes Ma'am." I nodded.

"Good. Excuse me." She hurried off again, muttering about how she'd much rather be at home watching TV with a few sniffles instead of working.

After making sure to watch her I snuck into reception to use the cordless phone, my fingers shaking with excitement to the extent it was hard to dial the numbers.

"Hey- yeah it's me. We're doing it tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will likely be the last one! If I do oneshots, I think I'm going to do it in a separate story because I have a few I also want to do with different scenarios/characters etc. that don't follow on from this story. I may also start taking requests :) Keep an eye on my user profile!


	15. Chapter 15

The schedule didn't have any special safeguards; it was easily accessibly in the admin office. It was only going to be me, Hank, and four orderlies in the asylum that night. I guessed they were counting on keeping all the patients locked in their cells for most of our shift in order to get away with so few staff; all the btter for my plan. I had five of my guys coming, so we outnumbered them.

I say "my guys", but I didn't have the kind of reputation that people did my bidding out of fear, not even close. I was paying them well though, and money and fear had the same kind of persuasive power. Half now, half when we finished the job. And... if we finished the job, I didn't care what happened to my money. They could have all of it. I just wanted Arthur.

Dealing with Hank was easy. I brought him his usual coffee, though this time it had an extra ingredient; several crushed up sleeping pills. Honestly he slept on the job so much that at first I wasn't sure if it had worked, but I gave him a couple of sharp prods and when he didn't wake up I felt safe enough to ease the keys out of his pocket.  
Disabling the alarm system was beyond me, but that's why I'd brought in Mikey, hacker extraordinaire. Using Hank's keys I was able to let him in the back door; we couldn't avoid the security cameras but the plan was to erase everything just before we left and fill the time with repeat clips from earlier. A nice clean job, it would be as though nothing happened - except Arthur would be gone.

I needed the other guys to take out the orderlies, quickly and quietly. Ideally just knock them out without being seen so they'd wake up confused but non the wiser. They would be patrolling at this point; the cctv could tell us exactly where.

Mikey handed me a walkie talkie that buzzed with interference as someone spoke my name.

"You there Harley?"   
"Hey." I spoke into the little black square. "Ok, I looked at Joker's file, he's in the west wing of floor four, room 11. I have the keys. The alarms are disabled so we can let you in at the--"  
  
 _BANG_

What sounded like a small explosion echoed through the speaker, followed by a loud stretch of static.  
"Guys? Why-- What the fuck was that? Can you hear me?"

_BSSSSTTTTTTT-_

"Harley, look." Mikey pointed at one of the many tiny black and white screens, and swore. A door had been blasted off its hinges. 

"Shit." I pressed in the plastic yellow button once more. "Hey! Someone answer me! Come in!"

"Harley-- I'm here--"

"Bonno what the hell? I told you guys we were going in quietly, I have the keys! You didn't need to blow up the fucking door!"

"It weren't us Harley. I think it came from the-- hey what are you-- argh!"

"Bonno? Hey Bonno! What the--- Shit!"

"Harley I think we have company."

Bonno's unconscious-or-worse body was prostrated in the corner of one of the little screens, and at least six huddled figures hurried past, each clutching their own personal firearm.

"Fuck fuck fuck." I whirled around to Mikey. These weren't my guys. "Who the fuck? Somebody ratted us out, we're being sabotaged."

Mikey was busy packing up the gear he'd had plugged into the computer system. "Shit Harley, they'll be on top of us in a second, we need to get out of here!"

"What?! NO! I'm not giving up before we even started! Mikey wait--"

"Harley, do you see those guns they're carrying? And here I am with just this shitty little knife because _you_ insisted we wouldn't need to be armed."

"B-but I thought-- It wasn't supposed to--"

"If you want to stay it's your funeral." He shrugged, before ducking out of the door.

"Mikey! Don't--- FUCK!" I threw a mug at screen, smashing it on contact. I'd planned everything so perfectly, why the fuck was this happening? Was it a coincidence? Were they breaking someone else out? Or were they just trying to fuck up my rescue mission?

These guys weren't being quiet; the orderlies on the upper floors would soon hear and come running. Maybe, just maybe, in the chaos, I could dart past them and grab Arthur. If I was quick? It was my only hope. Snatching up the keys, I dashed into the hallway, hearing the echoes of footsteps just behind me. Once in the stairwell I bounded up three sets of stairs, not daring to stop for even a second for I knew they were hot on my heels.

_Fourth floor._

I pushed through the swinging door breathlessly and ran to where I knew I'd find the large white metal door that separated staff from patients. If I somehow managed to get to Arthur without being tackled to the ground or killed, I'd still need to get him out safely and I hadn't really figured out how I was going to do that. The door loomed in front of me and I fumbled with the keys, with no clue which was the right one among the many jingling on the keychain.

_Shit... it has to be one of these!_

I heard a shuffle behind me and jumped back, but no men appeared. I exhaled, turning my attention back to the lock- but then, a small metal cylinder came rolling across the room, stopping at my feet with a gentle _tink_.

_Oh hell no--_

I scrambled up, and knowing I had mere seconds, jumped. Well it was more of a dive; I was aiming to get inside the doorway of a nearby room and I made it, just barely. I landed on my shoulder, rolling to a stop just as my ears were punctuated with a head-splitting BANG.

I saw a flash of light, what looked like white snow raining down above me, and then, nothing.

* * *

Arthur stretched out, feeling the pleasant ache of freedom from his toes to the tip of his fingers. It really was nice to be out of those shackles. He longed to also rid himself of these dull white scrubs, and put on some _real_ clothes.

An echo of distant sirens circled the room. Arthur wasn't worried; he would be long gone by the time Gotham PD arrived. Though as he rounded the corner on the way to the stairwell, slowly sauntering through the destruction, something caught his eye: a pair of pale white legs sticking out from under the rubble. There were going to be casualties of course - what did that matter? But something about those legs made Arthur stop. The way they shone in the lamplight, ankles so slim he felt as though he could snap them in two with one hand. A small hand lay limply aside them, unmoving. Pausing only to swipe a box of cigarettes from a nearby shelf, he wandered over curiously and, propping a newly lit smoke between his lips, he reached down to brush a few chunks of plaster off the girl's body.

_Look at that..._

He crouched fully next to her, pushing flyaway strands of blonde hair off her face.

It was his Harley.

What was she doing here?

There was a little blood, but - he felt for her thin wrist - a pulse. As he cleared off more of the globs of wood and wall, his eyes flickered to her breast that was home to a plasticky name tag. He dusted it off, leaning in closer to read it.

_Hailey_

_Janitorial staff_

Arthur let out a chuckle. She'd got a job at Arkham? Well, wasn't that adorable?

"Boss, we need to go." A man grunted from across the hall. "The police will be here in--"

He fell silent as Arthur flicked his hand impatiently.

Arthur stuck his arms into the rubble, sliding them under what he felt to be the crook of Harley's knees and shoulders, and with a swift movement lifted her up and out of the destruction.

"It's time to go home, Harley."

* * *

"Ow... Jesus fuck my head..." I mumbled, attempting to open my eyes. That was a mistake; the light cut through my vision like a blade and my hands flew to my temples in an attempt to reduce the feeling that my head was going to split in two.

I became aware that I was lying on a bed, though not a particularly comfortable one. The mattress was so hard that it could've been concrete and the sheets had more in common with chipboard than fabric.

I opened my eyes a little slower this time, gradually adjusting my retinas to the change in light levels. I was in a dingy room. Definitely a bedroom, but surely no real person had inhabited it for a long time; there were no belongings, no personal touches, just a few pieces of old furniture that was either somewhat broken or ugly as hell. I stared up at the ceiling, forcing my brain to work.

My plan... my plan that I'd thought through so well, that I'd been working on for so long, had come crumbling down around my ears. Who were those other guys? Who was their boss that they were breaking out? Why couldn't they have done it _another_ fucking day? The last thing I remembered was that little metal canister rolling onto the floor next to me.

I groaned softly, mumbling a curse out loud. "Fuck." They'd taken me hostage hadn't they? That was the only thing that explained where I was. This wasn't a hospital, nor a police station. God. I didn't have time for this.

I sat up, ignoring the pain that shot through my head; it felt like a bowling ball full of liquid that was sloshing around between my ears.

There were two possibilities - maybe, _just maybe_ , Arthur had somehow gotten out too? Maybe they had done enough damage, opened the wrong cell-- maybe they just wanted to cause some chaos and let _everyone_ out? I prayed this was the case because if Arthur was still in there, Arkham was going to tighten their security ten-fold after this, and I had _certainly_ lost my job after drugging the staff and stealing the keys.

But I'd have to worry about that later. First priority was getting out of _here_ , wherever the fuck "here" was. Then we could regroup.

 _I'll get him out._ I assured myself. _Even if I have to blow up the whole of fucking Gotham._

Kicking back the negative-ten-threadcount sheets impatiently, I swung my legs off the side of the bed. Nausea welled up inside me but I swallowed it down.

_Come on, get it together Harley._

I wished I was in slightly better shape, but if I was quick and quiet, hopefully it wouldn't matter. I pressed my ear against the door, holding my breath. It seemed as though nobody was out there. Nice and slow, I twisted the handle, and it unlocked without protest. I pulled it open, just a crack, and stuck my eye to the gap.

"Ouch!"

The door opened in my face, knocking me to the floor.

"Boss said to check if she's awake, I--"

Our eyes met.

"Dan? What are you looking at?" The other man shuffled towards the door. "Is she--"

For a second all three of us stared at each other.

Then I dove at the gap between their legs.

"Shit-- grab her!"

I thought I was in the clear but one of them managed to grab hold of my ankle by the tips of his fingers and I fell painfully onto my knees. My entire body seemed to groan in protest but I wasn't having it.

"Get-- off-- me--" I hissed, kicking out hard as I twisted around, swiping at the other man who was closing in on me. "Let me GO!" My long, manicured nails met flesh; I'd managed to get one of them in the eye.

"Argh-- fuck!"

Since for once in my life I had some money, I'd been taking multiple self-defense classes. What had happened to me in that alley- I wasn't letting anybody try anything like that on me again without walking away with a completely rearranged face. Maybe I wasn't quite at the point where I could totally incapacitate two experienced thugs, especially injured, but I knew how to do some damage, and I wasn't going out without a fight.

But then I felt the knife at my neck, across it like a choker, firm pressure that was quickly increasing.

Weapons? No fair.

I felt a sting of pain and struggled harder, kicking and thrashing.

"No! Boss said not to hurt her."

"But my eye!"

"You want him to kill you?! Drop the knife!"

The knife was pulled away and I fell to my knees, gasping, a dribble of liquid running down my throat. So they had orders not to hurt me? Well, wasn't _that_ convenient? In essence, I could attack them without retaliation.

"Look, just- put her back in the room."

"I'm trying! But she keeps-- argh!"

With a sharp kick to the shin I was free once more, though both men were close on my heels. As I ran I briefly wondered _why_ those were their orders. Who was their boss? And why didn't he want me hurt?

"HEY!"

A hand caught my wrist and I whirled around. Little did they know, I'd managed to grab the discarded knife- and with as much force as I could muster, I buried it deep into the man's thigh.

"ARGHH! Stupid little bitch!"

 _One down_. He wasn't chasing after me with that sticking 4 inches into his leg.

For a brief few seconds I thought I was going to make it to the exit, before a strong pair of arms closed around my shoulders and chest, lifting me into the air.

"Just-- Stay still!" The man yelled at me as I kicked and screamed.

"NO! GET OFF ME!"

I thrust my elbow sharply behind me, managing to connect with his jaw and loosening his grip as he paused to curse. But then his hand closed around my ponytail and I couldn't slow my feet in time to stop my head jerking back, cricking my neck and dropping us both into a heap on the floor. He hadn't loosened his grip on my hair and I turned to grab his beard in retaliation.

"Leave-- me-- a--"

"Stop." A command echoed from a nearby doorway and we both froze.

That voice was-- It couldn't be...

"Boss. She was-- I--" I aimed a kick squarely at the mans ballsack just in case my instincts had failed me, before whirling around.

A man in a bright scarlet suit, ill fitted and clashing brilliantly with his yellow vest and green shirt, was now doubled over in laughter in the doorway. Clutching his ribs, he leaned a hand up against the door frame, his painted lips stretching into a grin as he regarded me.

"You never fail to entertain me, Harley."

"A-Arthur...? I--" I choked on the words, paralyzed to the spot as the shock rippled through me. "B-But-- you-- I was trying to-- How--" I paused, suddenly wondering why I was wasting time talking.

I ran at him. And I think I stepped on my assailant who was curled up on the ground clutching his nethers but it wasn't possible for me to have cared any less than I did that moment. Nothing was more important than the man in front of me. I launched my arms up, throwing them around his neck as I leaped forward, jumping into his embrace, not thinking about whether he was going to catch me or not but just wrapping my legs around him. He absorbed the force as I collided with him and I buried my face into his jacket.

"It's you, it's really you, it's you..." I chanted into his shoulder, nearly sobbing but also nearly screaming with joy, resulting in strange a middle ground of just incoherent whimpering. I leaned back to look at him once more, wishing I could just burn his image into my retinas. I pressed my palms to his cheeks, exhaling slowly. "It's really you..." 

Arthur grinned wider. "The one and only sweetheart."

I wasn't wasting any more time - not after nearly two fucking years - so I kissed him, hard, desperate, full of a strange fear that he was going to vanish beneath me if I stopped.

We broke apart momentarily and I stared at him, still in awe.

"Those guys who fucked up my plan... they were _yours_?"

He nodded. "Mine. You made a good attempt though."

I breathed heavily, stroking his cheek with my thumb. "So essentially you fucked up my plan." I laughed.

"I guess I did."

I gave him a playful smack. "I tried so hard on that plan! It was going to be my first successful heist!"

"Is that so? What else have you been up to while I've been away sweetheart?"

"All sorts." I pursed my lips mischievously, staring up at him. And as he gazed back at me I still couldn't really believe it, that he was here, with me at last. I pressed my face into his chest, sighing contentedly.

I wasn't really sure what the future held for us; we would _both_ be wanted criminals at this point, but it seemed like Arthur - Joker - had things pretty well handled. And if he wanted to be the king of this city? I would be right there with him as his Queen.

Arthur pulled my chin up towards him. "So what do you think? Ready to bring Gotham to its knees?"

I tightened my grip on his hand. "As long as it's with you I'm ready for anything."

* * *

*** * ***

* * *

In a small little room with red walls and no furniture, a young woman was kneeling on the floorboards, leaning towards a man. A man who was bound at his wrists and ankles with rope and looked as if he would rather be _anywhere_ else. The woman had haphazardly applied makeup, bright white teeth and blonde hair and was waving her arms enthusiastically as she spoke.

"Anyway, so after that--"

The door creaked open.

"What are you doing Harley? Mr. Todd here is our guest, you shouldn't mess with his head."

Harley looked up at the man who had entered, an enamored expression immediately sweeping across her face. She stood up and bounced towards him, taking his hand. "I'm just telling him the story of how we met Mr J! Back when you were a sweet, innocent law-abidin' citizen." She pressed his fingers to her mouth in a way that, to anyone else who might've witnessed it, appeared somewhat obsessive.

"Is that so?" Joker smirked, squeezing her cheeks together before pulling her face towards him and placing a rough kiss on her lips. "The story of how I swept you off your feet?"

Harley squealed, falling into him happily. "That's right Mr. J!"

The prisoner shifted in his bindings, and Harley knelt down once more. "You see Jace? I told ya!"

"Harleen, listen to me." The man spoke for the first time, in a low voice.

"Listen to what Mr. Todd?" Harley pouted and started to crawl seductively slowly over to him. "You wanna hear more of my story?"

"Harleen you don't need to do this, don't think you have to stay with him. We can get you help. Protection. If Joker is hurting you--"

_SLAP_

Quick as a whip, Harley's hand had cut across Mr. Todd's face, drawing a curse from his mouth and blood from his nose. Her expression was wiped of even a trace of a smile and had contorted into a twisted canvas of maniacal fury. A small noise of satisfaction escaped her mouth at the pain she had caused but it seemed she was not satisfied yet; she lunged at the prisoner once again in a whirl of blonde hair and sharp nails. But her intent to cause more damage was foiled as a bony hand closed around her wrist, holding her back.  
"Now now, sweetheart." Joker smirked but pulled her away sharply. "You know we need him alive."  
"How dare you!" Harley shouted at their prisoner, still fuming as Joker pulled her towards the door. "Mr. J would never lay a finger on me, shame on you!"

"My sincerest apologies, Mr. Todd. Please.. uh... _make yourself at home_ and I'll be with you shortly."

"H-How dare he!" Harley burst out as Joker shut the door behind them. "How could he think I'm just here because you're threatening me? You would never hurt me! He should know that, I just told him all about our perfect love story." Harley looked as though she was about to stamp her foot with indignation.

Joker sauntered slowly over to her, stopping so their toes touched.  
"You're right, Harley. I'd never hurt you..." He grinned wickedly. Harley's breath caught in her throat as his hand whipped out, fingers closing around the side of her neck, palm pressing on her windpipe. Joker tilted his head playfully, bringing his face close to hers, and as he spoke his voice was a husky murmur. "Unless... you wanted me to..."  
Harley gasped and squirmed, a red hue of arousal rolling up her cheeks as he squeezed with increasing pressure. "...M-Maybe just a little..."

"A little, hmm?"

"M-Mmhmm..." Harley gasped as she felt her clown prince bury his face into her neck, kissing, licking. "Hm... mmm-ahh!" Teeth sank into her collarbone and she twisted her fingers into his suit, barely able to remain standing as he bit down. "M-Mr. J..."

Joker withdrew his mouth, standing up once more to his full height before pulling her towards the staircase.   
"Come on Harley. Daddy needs a pick me up."

A flushed grin spread across Harley's face as she hurried after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's that! I truly hope you enjoyed reading and if you have any comments I'd love to hear. Thank you for all your kind comments and kudos throughout <3 Next on my agenda is to finish up STNY and not get pulled into starting another story about Arthur or Heath's Joker... wish me luck. Also I'm planning a couple of one-shots (will publish separately), so let me know if you have any requests :)


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